UnMained: A Halloween Tale
by Shana Hager
Summary: A year after tragedy strikes their main, five best friends experience a night of horror at an online hangout. Rated M for obvious reasons.
1. Meet the Mains

**Meet the Mains**

 _ **1999**_

Isai had a death grip on his controller, his fingers mashing the buttons in a frenzy, sweat trailing down his face. He was in a close race with his opponent. Both had only one stock and were heavily damaged. Sweat trailed down the young man's face as he sought to out-maneuver his foe. "C'mon, buddy—you've got this!" he hissed to himself.

"Don't worry, Isai!" panted a voice inside his head, confident and accented. "I've got your back! You can count on me!"

"I believe in you, old pal!" responded Isai. "We can do this together!"

"Just hang in there, my friend!" chimed in the voice. "Just a few more minutes, and he's ours!"

Isai watched the screen before him as the man in green lunged at his—their—opponent and threw a brutal forward punch which sent the other guy flying. Then, he jumped and kicked him hard in the gut, following up with quick bicycle kicks. Unfortunately, the opponent escaped the combo and slammed him back to earth with a crushing attack. But he immediately swept his legs and got up, raising his fists. In Isai's mind, he could see those fists shake a little, due to the man's timid personality—but his mouth was a hard line. The young man imagined sweat pouring off of his body, bruises mottling his face and blood smeared in some places.

"Isai—are you with me?" asked the man, never taking his eyes off the opponent.

"To the death," Isai replied.

As Isai threw the control stick forward, the man on the screen dashed back into the fray, matching Isai's button-pushing with frightful blows and kicks. He launched green fireballs at the opponent to space him out. He grabbed and threw to set up combos. Isai's fingers were killing him, but when he saw the encouraging light in the green-clad man's blue eyes, it barely even mattered.

"I don't think so, Isai!" the man in green interjected. "I'm not gonna let you give up that easily!"

"It's nothing," said Isai, quickly shaking out his fingers before beginning again. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his opponent's surprise and confusion as he mashed random buttons on his controller. But Isai's skilled digits flexed gracefully over his own controller, corresponding to the graceful movements of the man in green as he slowly gained the upper hand over his foe, combo-ing him mercilessly against a familiar-looking tree with eyes, a nose and a mouth. His eyes flashed, passionate cries erupting from him as he battered the other fighter from all directions. Meanwhile, Isai's opponent's eyes bugged out of his head as he struggled to get the other fighter on the screen out of this jam. But Isai and the man in green were too fast. Too close. Too powerful. Too good.

 **PIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGG!**

Isai's opponent wailed in dismay as his fighter was smashed out of the arena.

"GAME SET! This game's winner is—Luigi!"

"Yea! We did it!" crowed Isai as his right arm was raised in victory.

"Just like I knew we could," smiled Luigi as he was presented with the victor's spoils. "I'm proud of you, Isai."

"You, too, L. You, too."

* * *

 _ **2001**_

"L, _amigo_ , stay with me! We've got them!" shouted Eddy México as he skillfully juggled between flicking his control stick and pressing the right buttons.

"He's right, my man! We can't slack off now!" added Steve Abate, sitting next to Eddy, engaged with his controller in a similar fashion.

Before them, two men, one in pink, one in green, squared off against an anthropomorphic fox and a veiled ninja. Both were beginning to exhibit signs of exhaustion, as the opposing team had beaten them down quite badly.

"Just think of the singles you've taken!" Eddy exhorted to the pink-clad one.

"Think of the brave thing you did last month!" Abate told the green-clad one.

The accented voice spoke in Eddy's head. "No worries, Eddy. We're just a little out of breath, is all."

"Yeah," the same voice chimed in inside Abate's head. "We're not throwing in the towel yet!"

The two men wavedashed across the battlefield, evading the short hop lasers the fox fired at them and the ninja's swift attacks. They moved in perfect synchronization, the one in pink attacking the ninja with karate chops and the one in green fighting a little more aggressively with the fox, getting in close, knifing his hand straight into him to finish. Meanwhile, the one in pink grabbed the ninja, swung her thrice and then spiked with a downward kick.

"How are you doing?" gasped the one in pink.

"Never better," replied the one in green.

They snapped back to attention as their opponents respawned and advanced on them. It was clear that they were angry and flustered.

"We're counting on you, Eddy and Steve," said the two mustachioed men. "Can we trust you?"

"You sure can!" Eddy replied enthusiastically. "Can Steve and I count on you?"

"Yes, you can!" they replied, bounding forward to meet the offensive from their opponents.

The crowd around Abate and Eddy went wild as they systematically mopped the floor with the opposing team. As their opponents stormed off in a salty huff, the two mustachioed men smiled at the two tournament players, having guided them to yet another victory.

* * *

 _ **2008**_

Blayd sat in his living room, propped up by cushions, holding his Wii Remote sideways as he fooled around with a CPU.

"Good thing you're keeping your skills sharp," said the accented voice in his head. "You have another tournament coming up in three weeks."

Blayd smiled. "Yeah. Let me know when you need a break."

"Nah, I'm good," replied the man on the screen as he kicked the CPU hard in the face and then dashed in with sissy fists. "Man, that was some adventure back there!"

"You mean Subspace?" asked Blayd.

"Yeah. Tabuu was pretty impressive, but we beat him!"

"With a little help from our friends, of course," added Blayd.

"So," said the man in green, "do you like my new palette swaps and my flipped cuffs?"

"I must say, pretty stylish," said Blayd, "but the graphics kinda suck. Just sayin'. The realistic look just doesn't cut it."

"I agree. They tried too hard to make my overalls look like real denim. Best not worry about that, though. So, who are we up against in our next tourney?"

"Meta Knight," groaned Blayd.

"Oh, _Dio_. He's broken. Something needs to be done about him."

"L, chillax. I know you'll beat him," reassured Blayd.

Luigi brightened. "You—really think so?"

"Yeah. I believe in you. I always have. Just like all of your old friends."

"Oh, Blayd. You warm my heart." He turned on his CPU foe with greater energy, chanting, "I can do it. I can do it. I can do it. I can do it…"

A lazy smile stretched Blayd's mouth. "Like you always said, you can do anything, if you put your mind to it."

* * *

 _ **2014**_

"That's it! You're getting better by the minute!" Mr. ConCon laughed as he watched the man on the screen gain an impressive vertical height with his Cyclone move.

"I'm getting dizzier by the minute," retorted the voice inside his head, "but it's so worth it."

"Are you ready to try it on an actual opponent?"

"Indeed. I'm ready for anything."

Mr. ConCon raised an eyebrow. "Is that your year talking?"

Luigi smiled. "I feel a lot better than I used to, knowing that I have a fan base and a few games to call my own," he winked, "and the fact that so many people are maining me—I never thought…"

"Look, you may have started off as a clone, but what attracted us to you is how unique you are on the inside," said Mr. C. "And look at the techniques you've perfected over the years. The Luigi Ladder, your L-cancelling, your combos—you are—amazing."

Luigi kicked the ground. "It's been a long journey, though," he murmured.

"And look what came of you sticking it out," Mr. C said admiringly. "You're my main, for better or worse."

"Thank you very much, Mr. C," beamed Luigi. "It's always nice to be appreciated."

* * *

Isai.

Abate.

Eddy México.

Blayd.

Mr. ConCon.

These five men had one thing in common.

They were Smash players.

And their blood, sweat and tears were poured into one Smasher.

Luigi.

They were the only people who could truly understand him. He was the only Smasher who could truly understand them. Why else did they click so easily?

Luigi loved the men who mained him, and these men loved their main. They took on the world of Smash together.

Oh, how little did they know—how it would all go horribly wrong—

* * *

 **Are you intrigued?**


	2. DarkSide

**DarkSide**

 **TW: This chapter contains extremely sensitive material involving bullying and a fairly graphic description of a murder-suicide toward the end. If you feel that this will disturb you, please, do not read beyond this point!**

 _ **2015**_

"Can I—tell you guys something?" Luigi asked his five friends.

They were all seated in a large room with a bunch of chairs, a Wii-U console and a TV screen. A variety of snacks was arranged on a long table, which the six periodically helped themselves to.

"Sure, L," said Eddy. "What is it?"

"This has been going on for most of my life—and it got worse in Smash," confessed Luigi.

"What's going on?" Isai demanded. "Surely, we can help you."

"For as long as I can remember, I've been—targeted—by bullies," Luigi uttered painfully. "Because—I was Player Two and in Mario's shadow. They called me "the Eternal Understudy" or "that weird, green coward" and other names. It was mainly verbal at first. Then, I started having food and drinks dumped on me. And when I got into Smash, it got—physical. Very physical."

"Who did this to you?" growled Abate. "When I get my hands on them, why I'll…"

"What's the use? They'll paint you as the bad guy," sniffled Luigi. "With the advent of technology, it worsened and worsened. There were humiliating photos and videos, vicious rumors being spread about me and anonymous people telling me to—to…"

"Luigi," gasped Mr. C. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"Because—I was afraid that you'd think me as weak and as a tattletale," replied Luigi.

"You're not weak," Blayd assured him. "Going to your friends and admitting you need help is a sign of strength. Because believe me, we'll always be there for you—to take care of you."

"And look at you nowadays!" Isai chimed in. "You're up there with the big dogs! You may be the second player, but you don't play when it comes to Smash! And you're not a secret character anymore. You shouldn't count that out."

"Still, it won't stop. I had people pretending to be my friend only to embarrass me in public. I had people ruin my birthday last year—whining about how I didn't deserve attention due to how cowardly I was. It's tapered off somewhat, but it's still pretty awful."

"Well, you won't have to face it alone any longer," vowed Isai, puffing his chest out, "because you'll have me."

"And me," said Abate.

"And me," said Eddy.

"Me, too," said Blayd.

"Me, three," said Mr. C.

"You—you'd really do that?" breathed Luigi.

"Yeah, we're here for you, L," said Eddy. "For better or worse."

"Th-thanks, guys," stammered Luigi, staring bashfully at the ground. "I—never thought I'd have so many people looking out for me." When he looked up, his eyes were glistening with tears.

"You were never alone in this, L," intoned Isai. "Someone was always by your side during your battles."

"And I thank you, from the bottom of my heart," Luigi said in a shaky voice.

Soon, the six of them were seated around the console, engaged in a round of Smash.

* * *

"Oh, my God," said Isai.

"This can't be real," breathed Abate.

The five were all in Abate's house, gathered around his laptop, collecting evidence of the misfortune befalling their main. And it didn't disappoint. The poor man's profile was flooded with scathing comments and head-shaking insults. And the worse thing was, their profiles were locked, which meant that they couldn't report them directly!

"Have you tried reporting these posts?" asked Blayd.

"I flagged them, along with other people, but it didn't seem to do anything," huffed Abate. "All I have are usernames. We don't even know the identities of these bullies!"

"But Luigi has to deal with them day after day," offered Eddy. "Maybe some of these people do their tormenting in person."

"And then probably threaten him with something ghastly if he tells a soul," snapped Mr. C. "Are you sure there isn't any way we can access their profiles?"

"We can send them a follow request," suggested Isai.

"These guys aren't stupid," objected Blayd. "They'll probably do some research and find out that we like Luigi. Then, they'll come after us, too!"

"I think the most we can do right now is support our hero in green," Eddy spoke up, "because he needs us more than ever."

"Amen," said Abate.

"Amen," the other three chimed in.

* * *

 _ **October 4, 2015**_

Mr. ConCon sat in the diner, drinking a cup of coffee. It had been four days since the release of patch 1.1.1, which had introduced brand new stages to Smash but had heavily nerfed the golden ticket of Luigi's down throw. It had targeted the knockback scaling, and although some other properties of Luigi's fighting style had been buffed, the update had hit him hard. All of those killer combos he'd been able to do were now flung out the window. This was bound to have a negative effect on his emotional state!

Mr. C smiled as the waitress refilled his coffee. At the same time, Eddy strolled into the diner and settled into the stool beside Mr. C. "How's it going?" he asked.

"I—I'm worried about Luigi," Mr. C admitted softly. "I thought that the bullies were finally laying off. And then this came along. Now they have the perfect excuse to pick on him."

"I get it. You're upset about the nerf, as you should be," said Eddy. "In fact, all of the Luigi players, myself included, are up in arms over it."

"But you're a Melee player," said Mr. C. "It doesn't affect you or Abate."

"A Luigi player is a Luigi player, regardless of the game," said Eddy. "Abate, Blayd and I are standing in solidarity with the Smash 4 players."

"I appreciate that," said Mr. C. "Did Luigi call you or come to visit?"

"He came to my house on the afternoon it happened," Eddy said somberly. "Tears were streaming down his face. It didn't take long for his tormentors to find out about the nerf. On and off the battlefield, it was open season for him. I took him in, and we cooked some food. It made him feel better. Then, I put on some music and watched him dance—he's always loved to dance; it's how he expresses himself. It felt good to watch him just forget about everyone and everything around him and break down his body and roll and wind his hips. I let him dance for hours. It was nightfall when he finally tired himself out. He thanked me, gave me a hug and left. And I haven't seen him since."

"He didn't come to me or Abate or the others?" asked Mr. C.

Eddy shrugged. "I guess—Luigi works in mysterious ways," he offered.

Mr. C sighed. "I just can't believe this. Luigi's at a high point in his life, and he gets nerfed. For God's sake, I was sitting in this very diner when I found out. Idiots!"

"But some Luigi players have gotten to talking," said Eddy, "and they think they can work around the nerf and make new combos."

Mr. C perked up. "That would be something," he conceded.

He signaled the waitress. "Would you please be so kind as to whip up the morning special for my friend?" he asked.

"I'll get that going for you!" the waitress said cheerily.

Minutes later, the two men were sitting, chowing down on their breakfast.

"Abate and I are practicing for another doubles round," Eddy was saying. "I mean, we're close to unbeatable now. Mango, Armada—they're no match for us!"

"I just spoke to Blayd," said Mr. C. "It looks like he's notched another victory under his belt. He's also looking into that mod—Project M."

"Project M? Isn't that Brawl with Melee mechanics?" asked Eddy.

"Yeah—and some rad new costumes, too!"

They shared a laugh, and then Eddy's cell phone rang.

"Hello? Hey, L! Wait—what? Oh—no. When? Okay, don't move. We'll be there in twenty." He hung up and turned to Mr. C.

"What was that about?" asked Mr. C.

"It's Luigi. He just lost a match—badly."

"He's lost before, hasn't he?"

"And some whackjob recorded it all and just uploaded the video to YouTube."

Mr. C's face was completely drained of color. "Oh, J—s," he said dumbly.

Hastily, the two men tipped the waitress, paid for the food and hightailed it out of there.

* * *

Eddy and Mr. C were joined by Abate, Isai and Blayd as they sat in Luigi's room, vainly attempting to console the plumber.

"We're gonna contact the administrators and have this thing removed," Abate assured him.

"Why bother? It's too late! It already has 226 likes!" sobbed Luigi, still bruised and bloody from his defeat. "It's being talked about everywhere! I'm being used as a food waste disposal in the cafeteria! And look at the comments!"

Isai had a hand clasped over his mouth. "Are people really this hateful?" he gasped. "Saying things like this ought to be a felony?"

"Who's the turd who uploaded this video?!" roared Eddy. "I'll mess them up so badly that their grandkids won't recognize them!"

"Well, let me at them, too!" Abate joined in.

"Guys, calm down," said Blayd. "That won't help anything. We need to focus on Luigi first."

"They're calling him a practice dummy!" yelled Isai.

"Practice dummy, punching bag—that all they think of me as," said Luigi. "This—this is getting out of control. They'll never stop, and there's nothing I can do about it."

"Luigi, you know that's not true!" Abate said hotly. "If we don't find out, then Master Hand surely will!"

"Yeah, like he's gonna do anything," scoffed Luigi. "He probably invited me for Mario's sake. We got into an argument once, and then while I was trying to cool off in the Training Room, I overheard him ranting about me—that he shouldn't have invited me, that I'll always be Mario's sidekick, and that nobody will care whether I live or die!"

"Lu," gasped the five, having learned this news for the first time.

"He said he was sorry afterward, that he didn't mean it, but why should I forgive him?" snapped Luigi. "He doesn't deserve my forgiveness—and neither do the others! They'll act all remorseful—only to start again after a few days!"

"Lu, listen to me," said Isai. "I don't care what it takes. We're going to find these people. And when we do, they're gonna wish they'd never been born. They will be begging for your mercy."

"Oh, yes—they will," hissed Luigi, and that was when the five men saw that look in his eyes. The look of bloodlust and wrath. And as long as they lived, they would never, ever forget that look.

* * *

 _ **Six days later…**_

"It's abominable!" Isai was saying as he perused Skype. "There are pictures of Luigi getting the snot beaten out of him, blogs celebrating his nerf, more videos—when will it end?!"

"I don't know, but he hasn't contacted any of us since the first video," said Blayd, sweat standing out on his brow.

"Did you try calling him?" asked Isai.

"Yeah, did you?"

"I left him a voicemail. He didn't answer back."

"Maybe we should call the police," said Eddy. "If he's missing, then maybe they can help us find him."

"We don't even know if he's missing," objected Blayd. "Maybe we should give him a few days to collect himself. He sounded pretty—sinister—the last time we spoke."

"Okay—well—how about we tell somebody what these people have been doing to him," suggested Eddy. "They'll know what to do."

"Yeah—like they care," sniffed Isai. "Just like he said—nobody cares about Player Two."

Suddenly, Mr. C burst into the room, wild-eyed. "You guys! The news! Something awful has happened!" he wailed.

Isai, Blayd and Eddy followed Mr. C into the den, where the TV showed a crime scene cordoned off by yellow tape.

"It occurred just after 3 p.m. this afternoon," the anchor was saying. "According to witnesses, eight men were playing basketball on this court when they were suddenly attacked by a man in green."

"Oh, my God!" Isai, Blayd and Eddy screamed.

"The attacker proceeded to brutally beat and then stab the victims to death—before turning the weapon on himself."

Eddy crossed himself and said a Hail Mary.

"The attacker has been identified as Luigi Mario, a resident of the Mushroom Kingdom and the younger brother of their hero and celebrity, Mario "Jumpman" Mario. The eight victims apparently had a history of bullying and harassing him."

"Why didn't we see this coming?" asked Mr. C, heartbroken.

"All nine men were pronounced dead at the scene. One eyewitness has videotaped the entire incident on an iPhone. We will now show you some of that video, but we must warn you that it is graphic and may be difficult to watch."

Immediately, Eddy lunged forward and turned the TV off. The men sat in stupefied silence.

"Heavenly Father," breathed Isai, "please, have mercy on Luigi's soul. I know that he committed two terrible sins, but he did them because he was pushed to the edge and didn't know what else to do. Please, forgive him, and accept him into your Kingdom. Amen."

His friends bowed their heads. "Amen."

* * *

On October 4, 2015, a video of Luigi Mario suffering a horrible defeat in a Smash free-for-all was anonymously posted to the Internet.

On October 10, 2015, the countless bullying and hate became too much for the victim, who finally succumbed to the rage and darkness building up inside of him.

Today is the anniversary of his death.

* * *

 **So, just to clear things up, this is going to be a special Halloween story, and I hope to get it finished by then.**

 **Wow, things got ugly really quick. And they're gonna get uglier!**

 **Please leave a review!**


	3. Chat Room

**Chat Room**

 **TW: Very graphic violence at the beginning! Take heed!**

 _ **October 10, 2016**_

 **8:22 p.m.**

Abate had fired up his laptop and was now perusing through YouTube. Almost hesitantly, he typed "Luigi Mario murder suicide" into the search box and hit "Enter".

The search returned just what he was looking for, the video, shot by a witness using an iPhone. Abate clicked on it and was taken to a window warning him that the content was extremely graphic and asking him to verify that he was 18 or older.

"Of course I am," grumbled Abate before clicking "Yes". He was promptly taken to the video.

In its first frames, it showed the eight men, the truly guilty ones, playing basketball as if they didn't have a care in the world. Abate saw red just by looking at them. After making Luigi's life un-livable, all they wanted to do was shoot hoops! "By God," he hissed. "If I had been present, then I would've done it myself!"

He fell silent as Luigi appeared on the court. His manner seemed calm, cold, calculating. He apparently was silent in his approach, for the eight men didn't even know he was there. Luigi stood there awhile, watching the eight engage in their game. Abate thought he saw his face redden. He thought he spotted his fists clenching. He thought he glimpsed that— _look_ —coming to his eyes. Abate released a shaky breath. Something about watching eight of his bullies casually play basketball had made him snap that day.

And then—he pounced.

The eight men yelled in surprise as Luigi tackled one of them to the floor and began punching him repeatedly. A second man ran over to peel him off, but Luigi angrily turned on him, sending an elbow into his face and then relentlessly stomping on his torso. The horrible sounds of breaking, crunching bones were quite clear over the cries of the petrified bystanders. The other six men were also frozen with fear, unable to intercede. The first man Luigi attacked was crawling on his belly, attempting to wriggle to safety, but the man in green spotted him, briefly abandoned the man he was stomping into the pavement and swiftly caught up to the would-be escapee, sending kicks into his face and then into his abdominal region. Blood began leaking onto the pavement, small rivulets at first. But then, Abate saw the flash of light as Luigi, now sufficiently pushed over the edge, brandished the brutal-looking carving knife.

Screams sounded into the formerly calm afternoon as Luigi straddled his first victim and appeared to scream something at him before swinging the knife down, stabbing and slashing all over the bully's body as blood spurted into the air. He then calmly got up, went over to his second victim and stomped him one last time before plunging the knife into his chest and then dragging it down to his pelvis, and then doing it a second time before making a nice puncture to the neck, leaving him choking on his own blood as it geysered from his jugular vein.

Luigi now straightened and faced the six other men, who were now beginning to back away, pleading for their lives. One of them threw the basketball at him and made a break for it, followed by the others, but they didn't get far before Luigi pelted them with fireballs, sending them stumbling. The plumber stormed over, grabbed the first one he saw by the leg and proceeded to drag him back as he clawed at the pavement, screaming. He kicked at Luigi and paid for it when he deftly and deeply sliced up both legs, and then grabbed him by the hair and slammed his face against the asphalt again and again and again until his nose was shattered and his teeth were scattered everywhere. Luigi flipped the bully onto his back and set on him some more with his fists, and then ripped off his shirt and carved an "L" onto his upper body before impaling his flank several times.

A fourth man tried to act tough and tried to kick Luigi, only to wind up flipped through the air and forcefully slammed onto the ground. He could barely even speak before an open hand stab met his windpipe, a volley of kicks met his body and scores of punches met all of him. This one was one of the most sadistic of bullies, for Luigi spared nothing when he pounced on the man with that knife. Blood splashed all over the floor and all over Luigi, but he didn't seem to mind. He got up from what was left of the fourth man and chased after the remaining four, who were once again attempting to flee.

Luigi crouched down and let fly with a Green Missile, propelling himself directly into the four men and colliding with them with such force that Abate could hear the impact quite clearly. One of the men screamed about no feeling in his legs. Luigi marched over, grabbed that guy by the neck and then burned him all over his face before sending his gloved fist straight into that mug, followed by another and another until the man's jaws were broken. Then, Luigi dropped him to the floor and kicked him three times in the neck before dealing some devastating elbow strikes to the ribcage, shattering it. Blood spurted out of the man's mouth while Luigi stabbed him through both of his kneecaps, cut his stomach and then sliced his face and chest till it was barely recognizable. Finally, he ripped the blade across both of the man's wrists.

A fifth man came at Luigi with a rock, but the green-clad plumber parried the strike, savagely twisted the arm until it dislocated and then turned the rock on him, systematically bringing it down on his head until most of it was covered in blood. He slammed it hard against the man's chest and then methodically cut off the man's fingers, finishing with two solid stabs to the abdomen and scalping the man with one clean stroke.

The man's body fell limply onto the asphalt as Luigi advanced on a sixth man and immediately set upon him with the knife, stabbing and stabbing until the man below him was a pulpy mess. As the guy drew his final breaths, Luigi kicked the heck out of him before Goomba-stomping his head, resulting in a splatter of blood and brain matter.

A seventh man began spitting curses at him until a rock-solid punch stopped that filthy mouth of his. Blood and bits of teeth poured out of the foul-mouthed man's cake hole, but Luigi continued to pummel and kick him until he crumpled over, barely alive. The man in green angrily shoved the knife into his chest and twisted it before pulling it back out and then driving it back in, going into a frenzy the way he had with the fourth and sixth bullies until the man lay still. Luigi remained astride the body, appearing to calm down a little, before drawing himself back up and glaring menacingly at the remaining man.

This one, Abate knew, was the ringleader. Which could only mean one thing—a thousand deaths were in store for him.

The ringleader, not so tough anymore without his cronies to back him up, was peeing all over himself, backed against a wall and begging for his wicked, worthless life. Luigi answered his pleas with a truly evil smile, indicating that his mental state was at the point of no return, his blue eyes blazing malevolently, his chest heaving, sweat standing out on his brow. Quicker than a flash, he punctured the ringleader in the stomach and tore a deep, smiley-face gash across the body, punching and stabbing him as guts and organs vomited from the wound. He gouged out his eyes. He sliced off his nose and his tongue. He lopped off his hands and feet. He cut and sliced and slashed. Blood flecked and flew in ribbons. And for the coup de grace, Luigi jammed the knife—down _there_.

The still-frozen bystanders sobbed and prayed aloud as Luigi calmly surveyed the eight bodies and the lake of blood that was now the basketball court. Slowly—mechanically—he turned to face the bystanders, wearing a calm, detached, creepy smile.

And then he raised the knife…

And then he plunged it down…

Again.

Again.

Again.

And again…

Into his own body…

Blood splashed all over the audience, some droplets falling onto the camera lens of the iPhone.

Dramatically, Luigi's heavily bleeding form sank onto the pavement, joining the eight he'd just dispatched. The light went out of his eyes. His last breath escaped his lungs.

And on his lips remained that awful, awful smile.

The bystanders were in hysterics by this point.

Abate turned off the video and sighed. If only he'd been in the crowd that fateful day. Surely, he would've been able to talk Luigi down and steer him toward an alternative course of action. Perhaps give them a few bruises and fractures, yet still spare their lives. But he could never in a million years imagine the kind, gentle, virtuous Luigi Mario going off the deep end like that.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I'm sorry I let you down…"

Then, he noticed the video's description. "On October 10, 2015, Luigi Mario committed this ghastly act after an embarrassing video of him was uploaded online. The video which finally cost him his sanity is still online," it read. Below it was a link to the video in question. Abate moved his cursor over the link, but before he could click on it—

A box popped up, indicating an incoming call from Eddy. Smiling and rolling his eyes, Abate clicked the "Answer" button.

"Hey, man. You busy?" asked Eddy.

"No, no. It's okay. I'm free," replied Abate.

"How've you been holding up?"

"Very well. And you?"

"Very well, thank you."

Since Luigi's tragic demise, Eddy had waged a passionate war against bullying, quickly becoming an anti-bullying ambassador and becoming a counselor at a children's summer camp. He still played Smash, but not as frequently as he used to. Most of his energies were now directed toward stamping out bullying in all parts of the globe, teaching today's youth various non-violent ways to resolve conflict and to help, not hurt, one another. With the Luigi Mario Memorial Foundation, Eddy further helped to raise awareness to bullying, harassment, racism and homophobia and the slippery slope they could lead to.

Abate also stayed on the Smash scene and continued to partner up with Eddy, but he, too, was now a part-time Smash player. He currently worked alongside Dr. Mario as a sensitivity trainer and also taught children's self-defense classes. He had written several best-selling books involving Luigi and enjoyed organizing video game nights for children, teens and adults. With his golden heart, Abate created a safe, ego-free environment for children to express themselves. In addition, he taught conflict-resolution classes in several universities.

"I have the raddest news ever," announced Eddy.

"And what is that?" asked Abate.

"I finally found my dream girl!"

"Eddy! That's wonderful!" gushed Abate. "What's she like?"

"She's fun, but she's also smart, tech-savvy and Smash-savvy—a big plus," said Eddy. "She stands up for herself and for others. The day we met, she was bawling somebody out for saying bad things about her parents."

"Wow," breathed Abate.

"She has the most beautiful smile and the finest pair of brown eyes I've ever seen," Eddy went on. "She can sing and play several instruments, too. She's taking classes to become a marine biologist. She really loves whales, you know. Whales and dolphins. Did I mention that she loves to swim?"

"Congratulations, my friend," Abate said warmly. "I must say that you deserve that one shot at happiness. What's her name?"

"Ally," replied Eddy. "Her name's Ally. We've been together for several weeks now. I know I should've told you earlier, but—I was so busy."

"I understand," nodded Abate. "Forgive me for asking, but did you two…"

"Sorry, bud," snickered Eddy. "I don't kiss and tell."

"When can I meet her?"

"We were actually just talking about it," said Eddy. "She suggested that you come by for lunch with us tomorrow afternoon."

"Tomorrow afternoon? Sounds swell to me," smiled Abate. "Tell her I'll be there."

"Great. I can't wait to introduce you two," grinned Eddy. "How about you? Have you found anyone yet?"

"Well—there's this lady in the clinic where I work as a sensitivity trainer," began Abate, "but we're just friends. We bonded the instant I got the job. She'd worked in sensitivity training for two and a half years, and she also specializes in psychiatry. She's taking night classes to become a psychiatrist. But—she didn't develop this fetish until—until…"

"I know," sighed Eddy.

"I know that we're friends, but—I think I've fallen in love with her," Abate said dreamily. "I think that maybe I should just quit Smash altogether, settle down, and raise a family."

"That's crossed my mind a few times, as well," confessed Eddy.

"I—can't believe it's been a year," Abate said finally.

"C'mon, Abate—don't beat yourself up over it," said Eddy. "What more could you have done? What more could _we_ have done?"

"We could've been there—at the scene. We could've stopped him. We could've referred him to a psychiatrist. We could've…"

"Look, man. I feel the same way. But what's happened has happened. All that remains for us to do is to focus our energies on what we're doing for the next generation, to hopefully prevent them from so drastically taking matters into their own hands."

"Thanks, Eddy," smiled Abate. "I actually feel better."

Another incoming call notification popped up, which Abate quickly muted.

"So," said Eddy, "this girl—what's her name?"

"Her names Bailey. Bailey Lauren."

"That's a nice name, don't you think?" chuckled Eddy.

"Yeah. She reminds me of someone in the video game industry," said Abate. "A voice actress or something. I just can't figure out who."

They were interrupted when three video screens popped up onto their monitors.

"Oooh! A guessing game! Can we play?"

Eddy laughed. "You guys! Come on!"

Isai, Blayd, Mr. ConCon and some default user had joined the online chat room. They, too, had tapered off of Smash over the year and moved on to other pursuits. Isai made short films, Blayd was auditioning for a musical group and Mr. C also dabbled in film and media. Along with Eddy and Abate, they refused to let Luigi's memory fade away and used his tragic case to illustrate why simple schoolyard teasing should be addressed and halted at once.

"Hey, it's the Melee Duo!" sang out Blayd. "What are you guys up to on this fine night?"

"Just talking," said Abate.

"What were you guys talking about?" asked Isai. "Somebody met a girl, didn't they? One of you finally got lucky!"

"If we did, then we'd tell you in due time," Eddy said smartly.

"Yeah," said Abate. "Hey, Isai! You look like you're headed somewhere special. Care to elaborate?"

"I am actually on my way to a convention," Isai responded smartly. "They invited me to be their top speaker. But I figured that I'd better check in with my old friends first."

"Aww, that's so kind of you," cooed Abate.

"Hey, maybe later, when Isai gets back from his convention, we could all order a pizza and watch SportsCenter," said Mr. C.

"Why watch SportsCenter when I have movies on demand?" Blayd fired back. "We can all come over to my place and watch some sweet flicks."

"What kind of pizza?" challenged Isai.

"I'm leaning towards a giant pepperoni," said Mr. C.

"You had me at 'giant'," said Eddy.

"Woo! Pizza and a movie!" cheered Abate. "Pizza and a movie! We're having pizza and a movie tonight!"

"Hey, Abate," Isai said suddenly.

"Yeah?"

"Who's your pal?"

"Huh?"

"Your pal. Who is it?"

Abate's eyes swung over to the "default caller" icon. "I don't remember inviting this person to our chat," he said.

"Yeah—who _is_ that?" Eddy wanted to know. "Do you—do you have a secret admirer? Hoo, boy! This Bailey girl had better watch out!"

"Abate has a secret admirer? Since when?" Blayd broke in. "And who's Bailey?"

"She's a friend of mine," admitted Abate, "and no, I don't have secret admirers. If I did, then I would've received flowers, gifts and all of that stuff by now."

"Hey, guys! Abate brought over a secret admirer!" Blayd sang out.

"Blayd, I'm telling you, it's not…"

"I never had a secret admirer," pouted Isai.

"I had a couple," Eddy said.

"I thought I had one, but it turned out to be a cruel joke," sighed Mr. C.

"C'mon, Abate—don't be ashamed," said Blayd. "You're very popular, you know."

"Look, Blayd—I just have this gut feeling that this is no secret admirer we're dealing with," cautioned Abate.

"Yeah—it didn't come with him," added Eddy. "It came with you guys."

"Huh. We didn't really spot it until now," frowned Isai. "Let's try hanging up on this stranger."

Mr. C clicked on the "hang up" button, but nothing happened.

"It's not working," he said.

"It's not working with me, either," said Blayd. "Isai, you try it."

"Same result," said Isai, trying all sorts of button combinations.

"All right, let's not panic," said Eddy. "How about we just call each other back?"

"Good idea," said Abate. "Bye, everyone!"

"Yeah. Bye!"

"Bye!"

"Bye!"

"Bye!"

Simultaneously, the five men hung up. Abate pulled up his media player and clicked on a song at random. "Don't Speak" by No Doubt. Luigi's favorite band—one of his favorites, that is. Abate blinked the thought away and opened up a private chat window. He wasted no time connecting with Eddy?

 _Why'd you answer the call?_ He typed.

 _I didn't._ Eddy typed back.

 _Well, neither did I_.

 _Issues with the host?_ Eddy questioned.

 _Mmhm. Probably. Maybe some gossip-hungry creep who eavesdrops on people and then spreads their business everywhere._

Abate waited. But Eddy didn't answer.

 _Hey, Eddy? U still there?_

Instinctively, Abate attempted to dial him up. But the call was ignored.

 _Eddy? You're not trying to spook me, are you?_ He typed.

Seconds after sending the message, Abate got an incoming call.

He, Eddy, Blayd, Isai and Mr. C reconnected.

"Hello, again," Isai said cheerily.

"Hii!" said Mr. C in an imitation of a certain pink puffball.

"Hii!" replied Abate and Eddy.

There was silence. Then—

"Hey, the dude's still there!" gasped Blayd.

"Well, it appears that one of us has a secret admirer," snorted Mr. C.

"C'mon, knock it off," said Isai.

"Wow. What is his problem?" Abate wanted to know.

"I don't know, but he'd better not mess with us," growled Eddy.

"Gentlemen," Isai broke in. "I believe we have a hacker on our hands. A persistent one, by the looks of it. He or she is probably phishing or looking for someone to scam."

"So—what do we do?" asked Abate. "How can we get rid of this person?"

"I have an idea," said Eddy. "I'll call Steve back, and we can all go from there."

"Consider it done," said Isai before they all hung up once more.

Abate promptly initiated another private chat with Eddy.

 _WTF is this fellow?_ He typed.

No response.

 _How come you're not answering me?_

 _I got this weird message,_ Eddy finally typed back.

 _Oh, yeah? From whom?_

When Eddy sent his reply, Steve Abate almost forgot to breathe.

 _Ha-ha-ha. Very funny, Eddy_ , he typed.

 _I'm not kidding, Steve. It was from his account._

Abate was about to reply when he heard a Facebook notification sound. He minimized the chat window and checked his Facebook feed. And what he saw there chilled the marrow in his bones.

 **Hey, Steve** , the post read. **You watching anything interesting right now?**

But it wasn't the post itself spooking Abate.

It was the one who sent the post.

Luigi Mario.

* * *

 **Say whaaaaaaaaaat?!**

 **The real fun begins next chapter!**


	4. Descent into Madness

**Descent Into Madness**

 **TW: Graphic images at the end**

 _ **October 10, 2016**_

 _ **9:02 p.m.**_

Abate had stared at the message for a full 30 seconds. Truly, this was his mind playing tricks on him. How could a dead person be on a social media account? At the same time, instinct told him to pull up the YouTube window and close out of the video he was about to watch—the video of Luigi's ultimate humiliation. Steve Abate was someone who didn't believe in ghost stories or zombies or things like that. But at the same time—he felt like he was being spied on.

Next, Abate pulled up his "History" tab and clicked the checkmark box next to the video. Then, he hit the "Delete from history" button and confirmed that he wanted to remove the page from the tab. Once the evidence, so to speak, had been erased, he returned to his Facebook account to confront the problem.

 _ **Who's doing this?**_ He typed in reply to the message. Was it a Smash bully, out to bug him? Or was it one of the people responsible for Luigi's undoing, drying to drive him insane, as well? Whatever it was, Steve wasn't going to tolerate it!

He'd heard stories of people who hijacked the accounts of deceased users, either to get personal information, torture surviving friends and family members, or just because they wanted to. The very thought made the Melee player see red. No way was he going to let some hacker desecrate his top main's memory! He resumed his online chat with Eddy, typing, _Yep, I think somebody hacked Luigi's account._

 _Maybe_ , responded Eddy.

As Steve thought about how he'd word his response, he was notified of an incoming video call from Isai and the default user. Quickly, he hit "Accept".

"What's shaking, Steve?" asked Isai.

"That default user is still there!" said Steve as he added Eddy, Blayd and Mr. C to the video call. "You're right—maybe it's a hacker out to scare us."

As soon as everyone else was dialed up, they were quickly updated on the situation.

"Still there?" whined Mr. C.

"Okay, everybody, calm down," said Blayd. "It must be a glitch."

"Glitch? How can you be so sure?" asked Abate.

"Well, I've tried to initiate contact, to no avail," defended Blayd.

"If we ignore them, maybe they'll get the message and back off," shrugged Mr. C.

"Sounds good to me," said Isai.

"So, Stevie—when are you gonna ask that Bailey girl out, hmm?" teased Blayd, wiggling his brows.

"I don't know. Maybe when I work up the courage," sighed Steve, checking back on his conversation with Eddy.

 _I'm really not sure this is a glitch._

 _Well, what do you think it is?_ Responded Abate.

 _Today's the anniversary, you know_ , Eddy typed gravely, _The anniversary of the tragedy._

 _Yeah, well—what's it got to do with this guy? If he's trying to turn what happened into a joke, I swear—_

 _I'm just saying, it's an odd coincidence, seeing activity on Luigi's account a year after his death._

Eddy then sent his friend a link, which Steve clicked on. He was immediately taken to a page describing how the spirits of the dead could communicate with the living after leaving their earthly forms.

Abate scoffed and typed, _Ridiculous superstition! You know I don't believe in ghost stories or in the occult, Eddy!_

After a beat, he calmed down a bit and added, _That's it. I'm reporting this creep._

Abate went back on Facebook and added this stern note to whoever sent that message. _You should know that such behavior is unacceptable. I'm going to report you._

Jumping onto Google, he typed, "hacked dead people's accounts" into the search box and soon found what he was looking for: a page describing the process of reporting the hacked account of a deceased friend. In Steve's eyes, the culprit deserved worse, as he believed that due to his turbulent life on Earth, Luigi deserved at least _some_ peace where he was now. But by memorializing Luigi's account, he was going to make sure nobody trampled on the green-clad plumber's memory.

Steve began to follow the memorialization steps as prompted by the website:

First and last name: _Luigi Mario_

Account URL: . .83, which he copied and pasted from the account itself.

Relationship to the deceased: _Friend_

Date of the person's passing: _October 10, 2015_

Proof of the person's passing…

Abate needed an article or a video to verify that Luigi had passed on. After a quick Google Search, he pulled up an online newspaper article discussing the murder-suicide and the harassment which led to it. _That's proof enough,_ thought Abate as he copied and pasted the link into the space provided.

Okay. All set. Now, he just had to hit "Submit", and this stupid hacker would be done for.

But when he submitted the memorialization request…

…something went wrong.

In place of the information he'd entered, the words I GOT HIM filled each of the fields. Abate's heart stopped cold in his chest. Was this a computer virus or something? Who was "him"? Why was it all over the screen? As quickly as he could, he erased the block of text from each field, intending to try again, when—

 _Steve? Earth to Steve! Did you report it?_

 _It's not working,_ Abate responded. _Something is seriously fishy here!_

 _That's what I'm thinking, too._

 _Okay, genius, got any wild ideas? I'm freaking out right now._

 _Relax. All you have to do is unfriend him._

But when Steve tried to do that, the "Unfriend" button was grayed out.

 _I can't!_ He typed to Eddie. _It's in gray, and I can't click it!_

 _Try refreshing the page._

"Uh—okay," said Abate as he clicked the familiar button with the circular arrow on it. Once the page was refreshed, he once again tried the drop-down menu and saw to his relief that the button was once again functional. He breathed a prayer of thanks as he successfully unfriended and unfollowed his late friend's page.

 _Problem-o solved,_ he reported to Eddy. _Thanks, my friend._

 _Anytime._

"Steeeeve! Hey, Steeeeeeeeeeeve!" Isai sang out. "Where'd you go?"

"I—I'm still here," said Abate. "Just taking care of a pest problem, that's all."

"You mean the secret admirer you swear you don't have?" snickered Mr. C.

"For the last time…" He was cut off by a Facebook notification.

Steve's skin started prickling as soon as he read the message.

 _ **You shouldn't have done that, Steve.**_

Heart racing, Abate typed another warning for the mystery hacker to leave him alone. But the hacker had other plans.

 _ **I want your help.**_

Help? What was he talking about? Help with what? This was a financial scam, wasn't it?

Suddenly, Steve had a brainstorm. Maybe this wasn't a hacker's doing, after all!

 _ **Boss, is this you?**_

Boss, another Luigi player on the Smash scene, often looked up to Steve, though he played Smash 4 rather than Melee. This Luigi main was also known for his practical jokes, which ranged from the hilarious to the downright annoying. Perhaps this prankster was using Luigi's account for some campy Halloween prank.

"Hey, you guys—did any of you talk to Boss tonight?" he asked.

"I did earlier this afternoon," said Mr. C. "He wants to pair up with me for a doubles match. Why?"

"No reason. Let me add him," said Steve.

"We're in no mood for Boss's practical jokes," groaned Blayd.

"C'mon—don't we want to sort this out?" Steve shot back.

"You're all just jealous that he's featured in the most Smash 4 combo videos," laughed Mr. C.

Just then, Boss came online.

"Hi, Boss!" the others greeted as one.

Boss had a Wii U controller in his hand, looking intent, both of his thumbs dancing all over the game pad. He appeared to be locked in some For Glory match.

"Boss, can you hear us?" asked Eddy.

"He probably has it on mute," grumbled Blayd. "Hey, Boss! Turn on the sound, you moron!"

Boss set down his controller, looking exasperated, and then leaned into the video camera. "Can you all hear me now?" he asked.

"Loud and clear, Boss," said Mr. C.

"Nice to see ya!" added Isai.

"Fun fact—when you're talking to me, and I'm muted, I can still hear what you're saying," Boss said to Blayd, "so I don't appreciate being called a moron, all right?"

"Okay, truce," Blayd said quickly.

Meanwhile, Steve typed into his Facebook conversation, _**Boss, you sly dog! This had better not be you pulling one of your silly tricks!**_

He then minimized the window and found an upbeat, peppy song on his media player. Crud. This was one of Luigi's favorites, too.

"Hey, Isai," said Steve. "I thought you had an engagement tonight."

"No worries, man. Someone's gonna pick me up," Isai assured him. "So, who's going to the Halloween bash?"

"I am!" said Mr. C.

"I am!" said Boss.

"Count me in!" laughed Eddy.

"Me, too, man!" cried Blayd.

"I already have my costume!" bragged Abate.

"Yeah? And who are you going to be?" asked Isai.

"Is that a trick question? Luigi, of course! Poltergust and all."

"Wait, wait, wait. You mean to tell me that you have a replica of that ghost vacuum?" Mr. C asked enviously.

"I do. I made it myself."

"Ooh! Could you please make one for me?"

"I'll consider it, since you asked me so nicely."

"I'm bringing Ally along with me as a date," said Eddy.

"Ally? Is she your girl?" asked Blayd.

"Uh-huh. We're steady now."

"Hey, Steve—better invite Bailey before this other person gets their hooks into you," snickered Mr. C.

"Won't be a problem. I think I chased that coward off," Abate said confidently.

"You know, I'm torn between going as Bomberman and going as Marth," said Mr. C.

"What? You wanna dye your hair blue?" spluttered Boss. "Second of all, do you know how vain he is? Do you know what his taunt translates to?"

"'Everyone, please watch me'," snorted Blayd, "like _he's_ the star attraction. His stupid Tipper cost me a few victories!"

"Well, I like Little Mac, so I'm going as him," said Boss. "How about you guys?" He logged onto Facebook as he spoke, raising an eyebrow when he saw that Isai had posted on his timeline.

"I wanna go as Luigi, too," said Eddy. "That way, Ally can go as Daisy. She likes Daisy a lot."

"Don't get me wrong, but I like Falcon. I've dreamed of cosplaying as him," Isai said dreamily, "or maybe I'll dress as Link. I was a beast with him in the good old days, too."

Meanwhile, Boss's eyes bugged out of his head when he saw the photo Isai posted. It was him, flying into a salty rage after losing!

And it wasn't the only photo. Boss soon discovered a photoset of him rage-quitting, throwing chairs, punching walls, flipping birds and storming out of rooms after somebody beat him. These were the moments he'd hoped none of his fans would ever see, and yet this twerp saw fit to make sure they saw his bad side!

"Wow, Boss, is that you?" asked Abate as he, too, perused the photos. "Man, these are intense! Isai—did you at least ask permission before uploading these?"

"What? Are you serious?! I've never seen these photos before in my life!" interjected Isai.

"Well, they came from your account!" snapped Boss. "How could you post things like this! We had a mutual understanding!"

"I'm telling you, I didn't even know these shots existed!" persisted Isai.

"Yikes, these are amazing," said Mr. C. "Boss, why didn't you tell us you have a temper?"

Boss cursed. "Do you have any idea of what this is gonna do to my reputation?!" he roared. "Isai, delete these immediately!"

"How can I? I never posted them in the first place, I swear it!" charged Isai.

"You're a dirty little rat, you know that?" growled Boss.

"Whoa, whoa. Did you just call _me_ a rat? Are you serious?" balked Isai. "You know, you just asked me for a favor to delete this crap, which I never even freaking posted…"

"I didn't ask you for a favor!" Boss broke in. "I just asked you to clean up the mess you just made!"

"Well, I'm not responsible for this, okay? So you can at least me nice to me and let me try to help you!" spat Isai.

"Gents—gents!" Blayd called for order.

"Or, if you're going to act like a five-year-old about it, then you can place your lips upon my posterior and kiss it repeatedly!" Isai hotly went on, flipping off his accuser.

"You know, maybe if you'll take a second and watch that filthy mouth of yours…" started Boss.

"Hey, I will wipe the sidewalk with you any day of the week, bro!" Isai cried. "Any day, and twice on Sunday!"

"You're both acting like children! Stop it!" barked Blayd.

"Boss, do you want me to delete the photos or not?!" snapped Isai.

"Yes, delete them!"

"As you wish, milord," sniped Isai.

"Boss, Isai—I know a nice parking lot where the two of you can slug it out," offered Mr. C.

"No, thank you," Boss said tightly.

"What's the matter, scared?" challenged Isai.

"Just get on with it!"

"Fine! Geez! I don't know why you're so quick to assume that I posted this stuff, anyway! I keep telling you that I never laid eyes on those photos until now!"

"Well, are you deleting them?"

"I'm trying, for God's sake! Every time I hit delete, it disappears! I reload the page, and the photos are still there—I'm trying, honest to God. I am trying to help you."

"Well, that is too kind of you, my good man," Boss said sarcastically.

Isai took a deep breath and counted to ten before once again trying to delete the embarrassing photos. "Okay, it looks like it's working…"

"Thank you," Boss said snarkily. "What made you think that was okay, anyway?"

"All right. You can get your marbles now," said Isai. "They're gone."

Boss breathed a sigh of relief, but it was short-lived.

"Hey! Those photos are back!" cried Eddy. "This time—they're under Blayd's account!"

"What? Who? Where?" spluttered Blayd as the photos were posted on his timeline.

"Okay, you're jumping on the bandwagon, too?" yelled Boss. "What did you do, copy and paste?"

"Blayd, I'm surprised at you," scolded Mr. C.

"What gives, Blayd?" Eddy led the charge.

"I didn't post anything!" shouted Blayd. "Boss and I may have our moments, but I'd never hurt him like this! Somebody's hacking us!"

"For God's sake, stop it!" Abate commanded. "This isn't going to make things any better!"

His words went unheeded as Boss gaped at a comment apparently written by Isai. "You're calling me a n—b?" he asked, soft and dangerous.

"Pardon?" asked Isai.

"Don't play innocent with me. So, you think I'm a n—b, don't you? Well, why don't I come down to your place, and we'll see who's the real n—b?"

"I'm not even typing, Boss!" yelled Isai. "What are you going to accuse me of next—having telekinesis?"

"What in the name of everything holy is happening here?!" Mr. C demanded to know as another message was posted.

"Oh, so I'm trash because I mained a bottom tier?!" seethed Isai. "You're about to lose my respect, Boss."

"Dude—I didn't type that! My fingers aren't even on the keyboard!"

"Yeah, right!" Isai shot back.

"Oh, God, somebody tell me when this is over," groaned Mr. C, tossing off his headphones.

"You know something, your crack about Luigi being bottom tier back then is rich coming from a salty rage-quitter!" snapped Isai, his pride wounded.

"Well, this 'salty rage-quitter' didn't type anything, and that's that!" shrieked Boss.

"All right, that's enough!" shouted Abate as another post came over Facebook.

"Wow, Abate—that's classic, taking Isai's side," huffed Boss.

"You two are the best friends I've ever had," said Steve, softening his voice. "How about we all settle this over a few pints, huh?"

"Oh, so you're playing peacemaker after taking Isai's side?" Boss demanded, nostrils flaring.

"What? I didn't…"

"Don't deny it, because I'm looking at this paragraph-long post defending Mr. Underdog here!"

"You're crazy! You're insane!" Abate's eyes fell on the post in question. "I didn't type that!"

"Well—who did?" Boss wanted to know.

Silence descended as the six men zeroed in on the "default user" icon. The person they'd tried to get rid of and later ignore since the chat began.

As the posts kept coming and coming, Boss stole a glance at the mystery user's username. "LisRl2015? Who the heck is LisRl2015?" he wanted to know.

"I'm telling you, I'm not sending any of those posts!" Isai continued to plead his innocence.

"Timeout! Who is this joker, and has he been here the whole time?" Blayd wanted to know.

"Didn't one of you say it was a glitch?" asked Mr. C.

"Well, the glitch just typed!" Isai said shrilly. "What kind of glitch does that, huh?!"

The six fell silent once again as LisRl2015 continued to type. Thinking quickly, Abate clicked on the user tag and selected the "Show Profile" prompt.

"We need to lose this freak, and fast," hissed Eddy.

"Hey, everyone," said Abate as he reviewed the mysterious user's profile information. "This is Luigi's account!"

"Are you sure?" asked Eddy.

"I'm positive," replied Abate. "I never got around to deleting the account."

"How on Earth could someone steal a dead guy's account?" Isai wanted to know as Abate exited the profile info page.

Abate sighed in frustration. "Who is doing this?" he wanted to know.

"Uh—maybe it's Luigi," offered Blayd.

"He's been dead for exactly a year," said Mr. C. "It can't be him!"

As Mr. C, Blayd, Boss and Isai hotly debated over the matter, Abate shot Eddy a message: _This isn't u_.

 _Nope. Why would anyone want to do this?_

 _I dunno. To get under our skin? Because it's working._

 _Steve, these hackers can be savage people._

 _IKR? Please, just say it's not. Just—ugh—Idk._

"This could be an Internet troll for all I care," Blayd offered up.

"Why would this troll want to go after us?" asked Isai.

"Whatever the reason, we have to keep our cool," cautioned Blayd. "Trolls want to gauge reactions from their victims. We're playing right into this troll's hands."

"Can we hang up on him?" asked Boss.

"We can't. I tried more than once," said Eddy.

"Step aside, everybody. I'll handle this," said Boss. He then cleared his throat and addressed the interloper.

"Hey, LisRl2015? Listen, buddy, you're a lowlife nobody trying to act big, and if you don't take these posts down in ten seconds, then I will steamroll over there and rain an ungodly firestorm on you. You're gonna have to call in every last diplomat in America to get a binding resolution to keep me from absolutely wrecking you! I am talking scorched Earth, you turd! I will massacre you! _I will_ [bleep] _you up!_ "

"Erm—he's not listening right now, Boss," said Mr. C. "He's posting again?"

Boss shook his head. "Who the blazes is this guy?"

The question floated in the pregnant silence. Finally, Eddy decided to take action.

"You know what? That's it. Everybody—hands up. Right now. I'm not playing."

The remaining five obeyed at once, with Eddy following soon after. Still, messages from LisRl2015 continued to appear.

Isai was done. Finished. Getting up from his seat, he huffed, "I told you I had nothing to do with this." Muttering, he stalked away, only to return a few seconds later.

"Alright, alright—let's hang up on him," said Eddy.

"Well, how can we do that?" asked Abate. "There's no hang up button. No button to hang up on him."

They waited for a few seconds. Then, another message.

"Wait, he's sending me something," said Boss.

After another leaden silence, Boss gasped with rage. "Good Lord! Where did you get this?! This is messed up; you hear me?!"

"Settle down, Boss," said Abate.

"I have no intention of settling down!" raged Boss. "This is absolutely messed up!"

"Didn't anyone tell you to be mindful of what you post online?" chided Isai.

"That's quite enough from you," snapped Boss.

 _What did he send Boss?_ Abate questioned Eddy via a private message.

"This guy just basically threatened me," Boss went on. "Well, mister, you asked for it. I'm calling the police."

Boss grabbed up his phone and dialed 9-1-1.

"C'mon, man—you don't need to call the police," said Mr. C.

"Yes, I do! It was a threat he sent me!" countered Boss.

As Boss talked to the police dispatcher, Abate tried to reach out to Eddy, only to receive no response.

"Blayd, I promise you, if I find out you were behind this, then you'll wish you were never born," spat Boss. On those parting words, he hung up.

"Yeah, good night! Thanks for stopping by!" snorted Blayd. "Gee, what crawled up _his_ behind?"

"So, Isai—it's not you?" asked Abate.

"No way. The day I pull a stunt like that is the day Hell freezes over," Isai insisted stridently.

"Well, then who is the coward hiding behind this username?" asked Eddy.

"Probably a rival," proposed Isai, "and Boss got rattled and hung up. Serves him right for his scapegoating and saltiness."

"Well, he's been listening to us this whole time, so he may have it out for another one of us, too," fretted Eddy.

"Okay, let's just hang up on him. Let's just hang up," said Abate.

"All right," said Blayd. "I'll see you guys tomorrow."

"Yeah. I'm sure Boss will be back to his old self then," added Mr. C.

"Abate, remember our lunch date with Ally," said Eddie.

"Of course," said Abate.

He signed into his Gmail account to peruse his inbox and found a message—from L s Rl. BOSS PLAYS THE GAME, read the subject line. Below it was this simple message:

 _ROUND 1: BLADES OF GLORY_

Below that was a link to Instagram.

"Wait!" he called. "This LisRl2015 guy just sent me an email!"

"What does it say?" asked Eddy.

"It—it's from Luigi's email account—and there's a link," reported Abate.

"Abate—ignore it—he's just some stupid troll," said Mr. C. "It's obvious that he's a troll—plain obvious."

"Send it to me," offered Blayd. "I'll find out who it is."

"Or you can forward it to me," added Eddy.

Abate searched, but he couldn't find a "Forward" button anywhere on the site. "I must be going crazy," he gasped. "There's supposed to be a forwarding button, isn't there?"

"It's supposed to be right next to…" began Mr. C.

"I know where it is, all right?" snapped Abate.

"Abate, just send it to me so we won't have to deal with it anymore," said Blayd.

"You don't believe me? Fine," huffed Abate as he enabled share-screen mode. "See? Look. No forwarding button."

"Wow," breathed Isai. "My computer does crazy things, too."

Abate moved his cursor over the link, but didn't immediately click on it. Finally, Blayd lost patience and slammed his fists on his desk. "What are you waiting for? Open the link!" he ordered.

"Fine," snapped Abate as he clicked on it.

 _ **Hey, guys**_ , wrote LisRl2015. _**Look at what Boss posted about Luigi right before he died!**_

It was an email from Luigi to Boss, asking him to remove the humiliating video at once if he was the one who posted it. He also apologized for not being the best he could be, citing aftershocks from the nerf.

"Oh—Boss," gasped Abate.

"My God," joined in Mr. C.

"Boss—you're sick!" seethed Eddy.

"Look, not that this is completely unwarranted, all right? Nobody want to talk about it, but here's my opinion," said Blayd. "Luigi _sucked_ in Smash 4! He was a broken character, and he deserved everything he got from that video!"

"You're pulling my leg, right?" Mr. C was beside himself.

"Blayd," said Isai in a chiding tone.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" said Blayd. "That was in poor taste."

 _Blayd shouldn't say such things,_ Abate typed to Eddy.

 _But he's not entirely wrong. Check this out._ Eddy sent a link to his friend.

It directed Steve to another YouTube video. It was silent and shot in black and white as Luigi used signs to lambast the online community for preying on him, using their secret names to cover their tracks. Abate noticed that Luigi's language was quite—strong. Returning to his chat with Eddy, he typed:

 _What else did you expect? He was dealing with stuff._

The emotion was too much for Abate; he couldn't continue this conversation.

 _I—I want to go—I'm gonna hang up—Eddy—let's just hang up._

As he typed those words, Steve got another Facebook post notification.

The message LisRl2015 had sent was truly chilling—

 _ **Hang up, and your buddies are dead.**_

In a panic, he lashed out. _ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?! U SWORE ON HIS GRAVE! I was freaked out…_

 _Steve, what do you think I'm doing?_

 _You just typed to me!_

 _What did I type to you?_

Abate copied and pasted the recent message from LisRl2015.

 _Steve, I know nothing about the business with Luigi. Why would I be involved in that? We were friends!_

Two new Facebook posts came in.

It was a comment on the Instagram post sent to them, implicating Boss for driving Luigi mad.

 _ **You murderer! You killed my brother!**_ Mario charged.

 _ **They should lock you up!**_ Another user agreed.

 _ **Boss is a monster!**_ Rosalina accused.

 _ **How do you sleep at night?**_ Sniped Peach.

 _ **This is awful!**_

 _ **How could you?!**_

 _ **Traitor!**_

 _ **Backstabber!**_

And on and on and on.

"Oh, my God," gasped Abate. "Is it true? Was Boss the one who uploaded that video?"

He returned to the video chat, where four confused faces met a bewildered face.

"I—I don't know how to tell you this," began Abate.

"What? What is this guy up to now?" asked Mr. C.

Just then, an image of Boss popped onto the screen.

"Boss?" the five asked as one.

The man sat perfectly still in his chair, in his bedroom, video games and CDs on the shelves around him. On the desk beside him rested several dangerous-looking knives, all of them covered in blood. That was when the other five men noticed the blood pouring from Boss's eyes, nose and mouth, the deep lacerations all over his shoulders and arms, the crimson liquid blooming on his tattered shirt, where even more slashes marked his chest, and copious stab wounds to his stomach. He wore a vacant expression which further struck dread into the friends' hearts.

"Boss?" asked Abate. "What happened? Did you call the police? What did they say? Who did this to you?"

No response. Boss just sat there rigidly.

"I think the screen's frozen," postulated Eddy.

Isai frowned. "Hey, Boss, you airhead—say something!"

Still nothing. Boss was as still as a statue.

"No way the screen's frozen," said Mr. C. "I hear background noises."

"Maybe the attacker paralyzed him," said Blayd.

"I'd better call him," said Isai.

"I'd better get the police down there," said Eddy, preparing to dial 9-1-1.

"Wait. Look at his mirror. It's—broken," gasped Isai.

"This was definitely a burglary," said Abate.

"Boss! Can you hear us! Is everything all right?" Eddy called out.

They heard a dial tone as Isai tried to call Boss.

"Boss! This isn't funny!" shouted Eddy.

"How much you want to bet he's just doing this for attention?" grumbled Isai.

Silence except for the dial tone. Then, after the fifth or sixth ring—

Boss crumpled from the chair and onto the floor, taking the video camera with him and leaving a bloody smear on the lens.

The five other men screamed.

"God Almighty! Boss! What happened?!" hollered Abate. "Boss? Boss? BOSS?!"

 **Please review!**


	5. Horror Hangout

**Horror Hangout**

 **TW: Violence and gore!**

 _ **October 10, 2016**_

 _ **9:33 p.m.**_

The five gamers didn't know how much time had passed, but it felt like an eternity. They sat there, stupefied, as uniformed police officers moved around in Boss's home, knocking the camera lens about in the process. Boots tramped and radios squawked. Steve somehow caught the code "1-8-7" and immediately knew what it was—a homicide.

Boss was just—gone.

And no one had a clue who did it.

"Boss? Boss! Get up! For God's sake, get up!" screamed Blayd. "We may have had our differences, but I'd never wish this upon you! Please, open your eyes!"

"Yeah, man! I'm sorry I said those things to you!" joined in Isai. "Just say something! Anything! I'll make it up to you, I promise!"

"Hey! Officers! Can you hear us?" bellowed Mr. C. "We're kinda dealing with a little problem ourselves—an Internet stalker! Hello! Officers?"

"What's the use?" huffed Abate. "They can't hear us."

More wailing sirens and more trampling of boots. The sound of a stretcher being wheeled in. The rustling of tarp. A flash of uniform as a broad shoulder brushed the camera lens. Loudly, the camera clattered to the floor, giving the five men one last glimpse at Boss's mangled remains.

Everyone screamed. They screamed at the blood. They screamed at the horror and terror frozen on Boss's face. They screamed at his pale skin. They screamed at the various organs and guts peeking from the wounds on his stomach.

"Oh, man," croaked Isai. "He's dead, isn't he?"

"He is, poor fellow," sighed Blayd.

"Darn it! Now I'll never get a chance to apologize for our quarrel!" wept Isai.

"He was a prankster, but he was one of us," intoned Eddy. "May he forever rest in peace."

As he uttered those words, Boss's camera cut out, leaving only the five men and LisRl2015.

 _ **Hey, guys!**_ LisRl2015 typed cheerfully. _**Enjoying the show? It's only the warm-up act, you know.**_

"What is he talking about?" hissed Mr. C.

 _ **And save your tears for Boss—he was no saint, contrary to your beliefs. Check this out, gentlemen—you'll see what I'm talking about!**_ And then the mystery person sent them all a link.

"No," gasped Blayd as he opened it.

"This can't be real," murmured Isai.

The link was a lengthy direct message from Boss to Luigi—in which the former told the latter to kill himself!

"This is insane!" shouted Abate. "Boss loved Luigi to death—didn't he?"

"Maybe—maybe he was just having a bad day," offered Mr. C.

"That's no excuse!" snapped Abate. "This is the most despicable thing I've ever seen!"

"And he's calling him all of these names, too! Why would he want to throw this man under the bus?" Eddy heatedly demanded. "Is it really him?"

"Yep. It was under his account. Posted October 1, 2015," reported Blayd. "I can't believe he's kept this from us for over a year."

"Do you think—do you think he was the one who posted the video?" asked Eddy.

"Well—he wasn't there when we were all comforting him," shrugged Blayd. "I'm sorry to say that there's a possibility of him being the culprit."

"My God," gasped Abate.

"He was such a nice, if annoying, guy…" Isai muttered in disbelief.

The five were silenced by an incoming post from LisRl2015.

 _ **All of you have dirty little secrets.**_

 _ **It's time for me to expose them.**_

 _ **Here's one of yours…**_

"Who are you?" asked Abate.

"What did he send you guys?" Isai asked fearfully.

"Why can't we shut this off?" huffed Blayd.

"We—we have to get him out," said Abate.

"Who cares about him? We need to find out what happened with Boss?" Mr. C shot back.

"The police are at his home," protested Abate.

"Well, this is something they can't handle," snapped Mr. C.

"Guys…" began Isai.

As the mystery user sent them another message, Eddy exploded. "That's it! We're not doing this anymore! We're all just gonna put away our phones and mute the computers!"

"Well, I have no idea where my phone is!" balked Isai. "We can't do this!"

"Hold on a sec," said Abate as he hit the "mute" command. The five instantly began rummaging and shuffling about, shutting down any piece of technology in their sights.

Isai picked up his laptop and scurried into another room. "Guys…" he moaned softly.

 _ **Nice try, folks**_ , LisRl2015 typed mockingly. _**Let me turn those mics back on for you.**_

The sound clicked back on. "Guys!" Isai called out, more urgently.

"Look, whatever this guy is doing, just ignore him," Mr. C was saying.

"I can hear you!" shouted Isai. "He turned our mikes back on! He can hear us!"

"Can you all just trust me?" asked Blayd. "I've got this program. I'll install it, and I'll find out who this psycho is, all right?"

"Can't you just get him out? We need to stop him before he does something else!" shouted Abate.

Isai was in a panic by now, pleading with both Blayd and Abate to do something. He was rambling and on the verge of tears, his breathing jerky.

"Isai, calm down," commanded Abate. "We're gonna play a game, okay? We're gonna play the game."

"Yeah, LisRl2015, I'm ready to play," murmured Blayd as he opened the installation wizard.

"Okay," said Isai. "Okay, let's all play a game."

"Yes, it's just a game, and we're all gonna download it and play it, yes?" said Blayd.

 _ **Blayd, what on Earth are you doing?**_ LisRl2015 typed.

"Oh, nothing at all," Blayd said coolly. "I just wanted to play this awesome game. You like games—you seem to enjoy games—so I thought we were gonna play. This is the perfect game for you, buddy!"

He sent the download link to his four friends. "Everybody has it?" he asked.

"Yes, we do," said Eddy. "Let's get this baby on the bus!"

The five men clicked on the link at the same time.

"I have surprise for you, LisRl2015," sang out Mr. C as the program began scanning the files on his and his friends' computers.

"Is it searching?" asked Blayd. "Did everybody download it?"

"Mine has something!" exclaimed Abate.

"Good, good," said Blayd. "Let's wait until we all have something. Is it flagging? Do we all have flags? There should be more than one flag."

"I have flags," said Abate.

"I have flags," said Eddy.

"So do I," Isai gasped in relief.

"Me, too," said Mr. C.

"Cool," said Blayd.

 _ **U have one minute to stop this**_ , warned LisRl2015 as he started a timer, which began to count down from 60.

Blayd ignored him. "Now, throw it all in the trash and then empty your recycle bins. As soon as everything's flagged, empty the bins. Do not save them. Posthaste, people!"

"It probably won't delete these," protested Eddy.

"C'mon, trust me on this," beseeched Blayd.

"Is it deleted? I need some updates here, everyone!" said Mr. C. "What's going on?"

"All right, it looks like Mr. C is done," said Blayd. "Eddy?"

"Mine's the same," said Eddy.

"All right, Isai?" asked Blayd.

"Mine's done!" reported Isai.

"Okay, Steve? Steve! _Steve_!"

"My recycling bin is nearly full!" said Abate. "I can't do this any quicker!"

"All right, all right. It's gonna be cool," Blayd assured him. "It's gonna be okay, I promise."

The small timer began to flash red as it showed ten seconds remaining.

"He's counting down! Why is he counting down?!" screamed Abate.

"It's cool! It's cool, Steve!" said Blayd.

Just as the timer hit zero, Abate's scan finished. "I'm done!" he announced.

The mysterious caller disappeared.

"Aaaaand—he's gone," announced Abate, to generous, grateful applause.

"Freedom!" Isai cried out dramatically.

"Ha! Take that LisRl2015!" gloated Mr. C.

"Thank you, Blayd," smiled Abate. "You're our hero."

"Anytime," said Blayd as his chest puffed out.

"Mr. C—did you pull out a replica of Fox's Blaster?" asked Eddy.

"Indeed I did," Mr. C said smoothly as he twirled said replica in his fingers.

All of the guys laughed.

"Why was I the last to know that you have that thing?" asked Blayd.

"You were waving it around all over the place!" scolded Abate.

"I thought it was real," Isai joined in.

"It squirts out water, not lasers," explained Mr. C.

"Well, now that the drama is over, let's all figure out what happened to Boss," said Blayd.

"Was someone out to get him?" proposed Abate. "I mean, he was fantastic as Luigi. Surely, he made quite a few players salty. I was talking with someone online about it, and he said he aroused jealousy among the likes of Nairo and Larry Lurr."

He returned to his IM with Eddy. _For a sec I thought this was real._

 _How do u know it's not?_

 _Dude, stop trying to freak me out._

 _Or what?_ Eddy shot back.

 _Or—we'll 1v1 on Final Destination, m8._

 _No items?_

 _No items._

 _Too bad Fox isn't available right now._

 _How do u know that?_

 _He's trying to steal away your object of desire._

Abate then received a link which took him to—Luigi's memorial page.

 _?_

 _He's more popular now. Perhaps he moved up the tier list again…_

As it slowly dawned on Abate who the true identity of the messenger was, Mr. C was on the phone with a police dispatcher.

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?"

"Oh, thank goodness! Someone—someone's threatening me and my buddies online, and they also threatened our other friend; he goes by Boss. Some officers were at his residence earlier tonight, but they didn't see what we saw. And there's more to the story…"

"What's your friend's address, sir?"

"His—his address? Hey, guys, do you know his address?"

"Mr. C, I have it right here," said Isai, and he told him the address, which Blayd repeated to the dispatcher.

"This guy continues to threaten us, and he won't leave us alone," he added.

"Sir, where are you right now?"

"At home. Online. With my—friends…"

"And are they safe?"

"Yes, they are."

"All of them?"

"Yes, everybody's fine."

"Even Isai?"

Mr. C swore his teeth stood on edge. "I beg your pardon?"

"Don't hang up." The voice on the other end had turned ominous.

"Excuse me?!"

"Wh-what just happened?!" Isai wanted to know.

Mr. C quickly shushed him.

"Don't. Hang. Up," repeated the "dispatcher".

"Who did you call?" asked Abate.

Mr. C cursed, banging his desktop in frustration. "It's that creep!" he yelled.

As he spoke, the LisRl2015 account rejoined the conversation. There was a mysterious hissing sound. And then the camera displayed a grated image.

"Hey, wiseacre! We can see you!" said Blayd.

"What's that? A lattice—or a crate?" Isai wanted to know.

Blayd mumbled something and stood up.

Isai gasped. "Blayd!"

"What?" asked Blayd.

"Back up a few paces!"

"Why?"

"Just do it," said Mr. C.

Blayd stepped back a bit and began to wave his left arm. The mysterious user's camera was filming him from behind!

The gamer marched over, shoved aside some boxes and lifted the crate. The others watched as he stared into the camera, dumbfounded, for a few moments.

"Blayd, what's going on?" Mr. C asked impatiently.

Blayd's chest was heaving. He continued to glare into the shot with that wide-eyed expression, sweat beading on his brow—before the camera went black.

Abate frowned. His call had been disconnected! Immediately, he worked to re-establish the connection.

The first image he saw was of Blayd's shirt. The feed was frozen, buffering. Abate was about to chalk this up to a faulty Internet connection when suddenly—

…the feed came to life.

Blayd was wild-eyed, screaming, thrashing wildly against the screen, his body twitching and spasming. Objects began clattering to the floor. Blayd flung his headset off and continued to jerk against the camera and his desk, his fingers clawing, fighting against something—someone—

And then the screen went blank again.

"Blayd? Blayd?!" shouted Abate. "Is he okay?!"

Silence.

"BLAYD?!" roared Abate.

The screen flickered on again—this time showing Blayd screaming blue murder with his hand and part of his arm buried inside his garbage disposal. His cries did nothing to drown out the nauseating sounds of grinding flesh, muscle and bone. Dark, thick blood jetted out of the unit and spattered like a Rorschach test all over his stainless steel sink. It also splashed onto his faucet, his clothes, his face, and even on the camera lens. Then, it went black again.

Panic erupted at once.

Flash. Blayd struggling to pull his hand away from the bloody garbage disposal.

Flash. Blayd now bent over the sink, his face inside the thing!

Screaming. Isai was hysterical. Eddy and Mr. C were cursing.

"What just happened? What just happened?! Blayd!" screamed Isai.

"This isn't funny anymore!" snapped Abate.

"Forget this! I'm out of here!" snapped Mr. C, jumping up from his chair and taking his laptop with him. As he began to move through his house, he heard a strange noise—as if someone was bumping around in his house.

"Hello?" he called. "HELLO?!"

"Mr. C, is someone in there?" asked Eddy.

"I don't know," Mr. C said breathily. "I'm gonna go check it out."

The other three heard the sounds of a door opening, of tiptoeing footsteps…

"Is the door locked?" asked Abate.

"It's always locked at this hour," hissed Mr. C.

Mr. C trekked through the corridors of his house, brandishing his toy Blaster. "Who's there?" he demanded. "Who's there?! _I'm armed, do you hear me?! You'd better not try anything!_ "

 _Click_. Mr. C jumped out of his skin as his power cut out.

"Oh, God," he said hoarsely, sagging against a wall. "Oh, God, help me. Help me."

Abate, Eddy and Isai watched in terrified awe as Mr. C slowly composed himself. "What do you want?" he asked shakily. "What—do—you—want?"

 _ **I want to show you something**_ , responded LisRl2015. _**It's a video.**_

"What video?" Abate wanted to know.

What the quartet saw next nearly took their breaths away.

 **What did they see? Find out next chapter!**


	6. Never Have I Ever

**Never Have I Ever**

 **TW: Chapter contains bullying, blood, brief suggestive content and violence**

 _ **October 10, 2016**_

 _ **9:56 p.m.**_

Their minds refused to accept the images as real, but the camera tracked every last movement made. The video sent to them was none other than the fateful video which made Luigi snap—the one Abate was so close to viewing earlier. It showed the recently-nerfed Luigi doing his best to hold out against his opponents' aggression, only to quickly slip into a disadvantage due to his decreased combo options. The four watched, hardly daring to breathe, as fists and feet flew into the shot, slamming into the man in green in all directions. He threw fireballs, did floor attacks, utilized items and lashed back fiercely until one man grabbed him from behind and held him in place while a few other men used him as a punching bag, giving no thought to his desperate cries. Abate felt an acute sickness arise in his gut. Isai whimpered and sobbed. Eddy muttered a prayer under his breath. Mr. C wrung his hands. They had all been morbidly curious over the contents of that video—and now they wished they hadn't.

"Please! No more!" they watched a badly beaten Luigi scream, his tears making clear tracks on his blood-smeared face as he fought to ward off the attack. He'd tried to retreat, but there were little places to do so on the stage they were on. Eventually, they had him on the floor, kicking him relentlessly, punching him back to the ground each time he tried to struggle up.

Abate tried to exit out of the page, but clicking on it just caused it to pop up somewhere else. Multiple windows of the video began appearing all over the screen, and he couldn't exit out of any of them. He couldn't mute the sound. He couldn't do anything. It was as if his computer was corrupted.

"Dear Lord in Heaven!" wailed Isai as he watched Luigi give up the fight, his body going limp against the ground, as his opponents continued to attack him. "Where were the officials?"

"Maybe they didn't care, either," murmured Mr. C. "It's a blood sport to them, a rush, a turn-on."

"Look at them," Eddy gasped in disbelief. "They keep going at him. He's forfeited the match, and they keep going at him—why can't I close this window?"

The scene then jumped to the aftermath of the "match"—if you could call it that. It was dim and quiet, and all of the spectators had gone. The area was completely vacant—save for one person.

Luigi.

He lay curled up on the stage, hugging himself, in a pool of his own blood. He was bruised and swollen all over his face. More bruises marred his limbs, and by the way he was holding his side, a rib or two was probably broken. Slowly, the camera panned down the plumber's beaten, quaking body. He sobbed softly, while someone else snickered. And then Luigi turned his face so that he was looking directly at the camera. No black eyes or broken noses could mask the vicious malevolence the four men saw on that face.

"Why?" he whispered through his tears as bloody snot ran from his nose. "Why?"

Finally, the page went away, leaving the four men shaken.

"It's worse than I imagined," muttered Isai as his teeth chattered.

"He—he must think we did it," said Eddy.

Abate jumped onto Facebook to plead his innocence.

 _ **We had nothing to do with that!**_

 _ **Then what are these?**_ LisRl2015 asked, bombarding Abate with the hateful comments in response to the video.

 _Plz Weegee kill urself._

 _OMFG LUIGI UR LIFE IS OVER!_

 _Wow, Luigi, I had no idea you made such a mess._

 _HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA XD_

 _KILL URSELF NOW PLEASE!_

 _Bye-bye, Weegee!_

 _ **Who wrote these, Steve?**_

Abate scrolled through the page Eddy had sent to him earlier, about the dead haunting the living.

 _ **We didn't mean it,**_ he typed. _**Everyone was posting, so we did, too. But we were only joking! We made a big mistake, but we're good people.**_

 _ **Are you sure about that?**_ LisRl2015 challenged. _**Let's find out.**_

 _ **Let's play a little game**_ , he posted onto the group chat. _**I'm sure you're all familiar with it. It's called Never Have I Ever.**_

"Never Have I Ever? Like the drinking game?" questioned Isai.

 _ **Exactly, but in my version, the loser doesn't drink—the loser dies the worst death imaginable.**_

"Personally, I'd rather take the drink," groaned Mr. C.

"I don't do drinking games," said Abate. "Could someone explain how this works?"

"It's easy, really," said Isai. "Hold five fingers up. Someone will state a claim beginning with Never Have I Ever. And if you did that thing, then you put a finger down."

"I don't want to play this game. I want to go to bed. I want my mommy!" whined Mr. C.

 _ **You don't have a choice, remember?**_

"Why?" demanded Abate. "Of all games, why _that_ one?"

 _ **I think you know why, Steve.**_

"God—it, I'm in no mood for a drinking game, period," sniffed Isai. "I want out."

 _ **Would you rather I just kill you now, ISAI?**_

"He knows my name!" screamed Isai.

 _ **Five fingers up, please—**_

"Okay, fine! Have it your way! Everyone, put your fingers up!" snapped Abate.

The four men raised their left hand.

 _ **Never Have I Ever—started the rumor that Abate is a closet case.**_

"Who—who did that?" asked Abate as LisRl2015 began to count down.

"Well, don't look at me!" Eddy said quickly.

"It wasn't me, either," said Mr. C.

Isai looked flustered for a few seconds before finally speaking up. "God help me, I did it. It was me."

 _ **Isai—finger down.**_

"What? No," gasped Abate. "You said Boss was responsible."

"I—I lied about that," confessed Isai.

"How could you?" yelled Abate. "I looked up to you! You were the reason I got into the Smash business and took up Luigi! What were you thinking?"

"Well, you were always hanging around with Eddy," Isai stated defensively, "so I think there's some truth in that!"

"That's ridiculous! Eddy's seeing somebody now!" Abate shot back.

 _ **Never Have I Ever—damaged Isai's N64 console.**_

"That was one of you guys?" Isai asked incredulously. "That was actually one of you guys?"

After a pregnant pause, Abate put a finger down and hung his head in shame. "It was me, Isai. I was trying to learn how to play Smash 64, and I got frustrated, and then it happened. I'm sorry, man."

"Did you have any idea how much my parents saved to buy me that thing?!" roared Isai.

"Gee-whiz, some friend you turned out to be, Steve," scoffed Mr. C.

"Well, at least I apologized, which _he_ neglected to do for starting this crazy rumor about me—which isn't true!" Abate said hotly.

"Stop it," commanded Eddy. "We need to stick together if we want to stop this guy."

 _ **Never Have I Ever—groped a certain man in green.**_

"Are you joking right now?" asked Abate.

Eddy put his finger down. "That was me, but I swear, I was drunk. It didn't even last long, either…"

 _ **Never Have I Ever—sold out Mr. ConCon to the tournament officials for conspiring to cheat on a bracket match.**_

"Isai, I swear, if you're responsible…" growled Mr. C.

"Lay off, all right? It was me! It was me," Eddy broke in.

"What?! Why, man?!"

"Does it really matter why?"

"Yes, it does! They threw me out of the bracket, man! I was ushered out by security in front of God and everyone! It almost cost me my career!"

"I had no choice!" argued Eddy. "They were gonna find out one way or another, and if they learned that I knew about it in advance, then they would've punished me, too! It was either one of us, or both of us!"

"And so you decided to do the right thing," Mr. C said sarcastically. "How noble of you!"

 _ **Never Have I Ever—stolen one grand from Mr. C.**_

Mr. C was beside himself. "You guys are snakes! All of you!"

"I'll pay it back—I promise!" blubbered Isai, putting down a finger.

"Don't bother—keep it!" retorted Mr. C.

Abate sent an IM to Eddy. _Lay off of Mr. C. He's gonna lose it. Remember that convention?_

 _He was drunk_ , Eddy responded.

 _He's drunk now_ , Abate typed back before minimizing the IM window.

 _ **Never Have I Ever—offered to trade Isai's life for my own.**_

"What? Guys, are you serious?" spat Isai. He started to sob.

"No, none of us did that," Eddy said consolingly. "We'd do the opposite! Luigi mains stick together remember?"

"Steve…" said Mr. C.

"Steve, did you do that?" Isai choked out, exasperated and crying harder.

"No! I wouldn't do that!" cried Abate.

"Then prove it! Put down a finger, and prove it!" ordered Mr. C.

"Hey! Steve said he didn't do it, so quit pushing!" snapped Eddy.

"Oh, and he always tells the truth, Eddy?"

"Yeah! Yeah, he does!"

"Oh, he does? Because he always tells the truth, right Steve? Don't you always tell the truth?" Mr. C rambled.

Backed into a corner with two seconds remaining on the clock, Mr. C broke down and confessed. "It was me, okay?!"

"Mr. C!" gasped Isai.

"You're a monster—you're a no-good monster, you know!" shouted Eddy.

"Oh, I'm the monster! They told me that if I traded Isai, then the rest of us would be allowed to live. In short, I was saving all of your thankless butts! But you wouldn't understand because your lives are rainbows and unicorns!"

"I hate you! I hate you!" sobbed Isai. "I hate you, Mr. C!"

As Isai and Mr. C continued to rage at each other, Abate sent a few more IMs Eddy's way, pleading for him to keep his level head and try to calm Mr. C. down.

But Mr. C was having none of it. "All right then, L, it's my turn! Let's make this interesting, all right? Never Have I Ever thrown a match!"

 _ **Never Have I Ever—thrown a match.**_

"What are you doing, man?" screeched Isai.

"L, where's the timer?" asked Mr. C, ignoring Isai. "And—there goes my finger."

"Thrown a match? Nobody's ever thrown a match!" hollered Abate.

"Yeah! I don't believe in that stuff!" Eddy joined in.

"Hey, the timer's still going," said Mr. C in a sing-song voice. "L, why is the timer still going? Tick-tock, folks, this round isn't over!"

"Stop it! Stop it!" yelled Abate.

"Someone hasn't answered! Hello?"

Abate cursed and lowered another finger. "I'm sorry," he said.

"What are you talking about?" asked Eddy.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Eddy," said Abate, on the verge of tears.

"New question—Never Have I Ever stabbed my doubles partner in the back. You happy now, Stevie?"

 _ **Never Have I Ever—stabbed my doubles partner in the back.**_

"MR. C, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" screamed Abate.

"No. No. He can't be insinuating that…" Eddy stammered.

"Eddy. Look at me. I'm sorry. It was an accident. I didn't mean to!"

"We were on our way to the big leagues, Steve!" screamed Eddy. "What made you want to throw the game?!"

"I was mad at you after we had that argument, okay? You said some hurtful things, and I wanted revenge! I'm sorry, and—I hate you, Mr. C!"

"Like I care," Mr. C shot back.

"Stop talking! You got us into this!" Abate lashed out.

"But hey, it doesn't matter, right Eddy? It doesn't matter!"

An oldies song began to play loudly on the computer. It was "Backstabbers", and it was on full blast. Abate tried to stop, pause and mute the song, but even with his volume turned all the way down, it was still playing, though not loud enough to drown out the insults Eddy and Mr. C were exchanging.

"Stop it! Stop it! I don't wanna play anymore!" Isai screamed through his tears, now sufficiently stressed out.

"You know what—I'm gonna win this! Never Have I Ever—hey, hands up, we're still playing! We are still playing here! Never Have I Ever rigged the Wii-U controllers so that you could more easily mash buttons!"

 _ **Never Have I Ever—rigged the Wii-U controllers.**_

"What? Oh, [ _bleep_ ] you, man!" roared Mr. C.

"In the name of Heaven, this is no way for grown men to settle their affairs!" shouted Abate.

"Don't talk down to me, you dirty backstabber!" snarled Eddy.

"Eddy, I swear, I never meant to hurt you!" pleaded Abate. "Please, Eddy!"

"We were doubles buddies for better or worse, and you spat in my face!"

"It was only one time!" sobbed Abate. "I just let my temper get the better of me! You're my best friend!"

"Ah, yes—the virtuous, pure-hearted, angelic Steve Abate," Mr. C said mockingly.

"I'll have you know that I've spent every night since wishing I could take it back!" said Abate.

"Whatever, Stevie."

"Thanks a lot, Mr. C!" Abate screamed at him.

"And that's supposed to make it better?" balked Eddy.

"I'm sorry! I don't know what else to say! I'm sorry," hiccupped Abate.

"Never Have I Ever framed LoF False for rigging those controllers!"

 _ **Never Have I Ever—framed LoF False for rigging the Wii-U controllers.**_

"Guys, just stop this!" begged Abate. "I'm sorry, okay?"

"What gives, Eddy? I didn't rig any controllers, and I certainly didn't frame LoF False!" Mr. C exploded.

"Why not? Because he also mained Luigi? What does that mean? That prize money makes you forget that, doesn't it, Steve?"

"It wasn't like that!" argued Abate.

"Then what was it like?!" Eddy wanted to know.

Another YouTube video popped onto the screen. It showed Steve meeting with one of his opponents in an undisclosed location, slipping him a piece of paper and then warmly shaking his hand. Steam rose out of Eddy's ears.

"Oh, God! Where are you getting this?!" shrieked Abate. "Eddy, you have to believe me—that didn't mean anything! I didn't mean it! Don't watch that, all right! I still like you, man! You're my best friend forever, Eddy! Please!"

 _ **Who's up for a bonus round?**_

"NOOOOOO!" wailed Isai.

 _ **Get ready to keep playing. ;)**_

Mr. C jumped up and waved his Blaster replica. "No! Forget this! I'm freaking ready for you, buddy! Come and get it, you sadistic brute!"

He whirled around as his printer whirred to life and spat out a paper copy. He snatched it from the tray, took a look at it, and then snatched at his hair.

"What is it?" asked Abate.

"He told me not to tell you what it is," said Mr. C.

"For God's sake! Don't do this to us! Please!" screamed Abate. "You've done enough already!"

He heard his own printer spit out a piece of paper and rushed to grab it.

"No!" he whimpered. "No…"

"What does it say?" asked Isai.

"I can't," said Abate. "I can't."

"What's this? Something else you're keeping from me?" asked Eddy.

"No, it's not like that!" snapped Abate. "For God's sake man, if I tell you, then he'll kill you!"

"Oh, he'll kill me? Then he'd better do it now and get it over with!" roared Eddy.

"Eddy, you need to calm down, right now!" barked Abate. "We all just need to calm down! Just—calm down!" He took a deep breath. "Look—I'm sorry. I can't tell you, Eddy."

"I'll give you one minute to get this off your chest."

"O—kay. Uh. Well, you and I had that argument and you just stormed off, and that made me upset, all right? A lot of things were said, and I only wanted to hurt you like your words hurt me! I just wanted…"

"…to teach me a lesson," finished Eddy.

"Yes. I was angry, confused and upset. I wanted you to see how important it was to think before words leap out of your mouth! So, I ran into our next opponent, and we had a few drinks, and that's when the idea came. I swear, I was still slightly drunk when I executed the plan. I took a few notes about your strategy and handed them off to the opposition. And by the time I sobered up and realized what I had done, it was too late."

"Oh, boo-hoo," said Mr. C.

"Zip it," Abate said coldly. "This is just between me and Eddy."

"Steve," said Eddy. "Show me the paper."

"Trust me, Eddy, you don't want me to," said Abate.

"Do you want to atone for your little act or not?"

"I do."

"Then show it to me. No more secrets, Steve! Show me the paper, or I'm walking! I'm not playing with you! Either you show me that paper, or our partnership is through, do you hear me? Through! _Show it to me, Steve! I'm signing out! I've had enough of this! I'm signing out!_ "

 _ **If Eddy signs out, he dies**_ , warned LisRl2015.

"No, Steve! Don't do it! Don't show it to him!" screamed Mr. C.

But Abate realized that he had no choice. In an effort to calm his raging partner, he held up his piece of paper: IF YOU REVEAL THIS NOTE, MR. C WILL DIE.

Mr. C screamed and began clawing at his face with one hand, first snatching out his left eye, and then his right. Crimson liquid immediately shot out of the empty eye sockets, tissue and fluids bathing Mr. C's fingers. He continued to claw at his sightless face, screaming like a banshee, tearing at the skin, the blood running like rivers. Finally, his body went slack and fell over, revealing his paper: IF YOU REVEAL THIS NOTE, STEVE WILL DIE.

Isai screamed. "No! No! No!" He shrieked, cried and hyperventilated. "Abate, you idiot! Look what you did!"

"I'm sorry, Isai! I didn't know what else to do!" blubbered Abate, hugging himself in shock.

The both sat there, crying, until a pop up advertisement for an adult live cam website appeared. Abate wiped his tears and closed the ad. "Okay, that's it. I'm not gonna sit on my derriere and let him do this. Mr. C was right—we can't listen to this guy."

 _ **Hands up, gentlemen; we're still playing. I've got a question for you, ISAI.**_

"I didn't do anything!" protested Isai, his voice high and warbly.

"Isai, whatever you do, do not answer him," Abate said to him. "I don't care what he sends to you, do _not_ answer him, okay? You can't give in!"

"Okay," Isai said shakily.

That was when all of his lights shut off with a loud SHOOMP.

Isai screamed louder than he ever screamed in his life, his hair standing up on end like a cat's. Grabbing his laptop, he darted into his bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him and locking it.

"Okay, Isai! Just hide, man! Just hide! I'm gonna get help!" Abate said briskly before connecting to ChatRoulette to send out an S.O.S.

"Hello? Somebody? We need some help over here!"

 **Please review!**


	7. Specter in the House?

**Specter in the House?**

 **TW: Violence and disturbing content**

 _ **October 10, 2016**_

 _ **10:12 p.m.**_

Isai was hyperventilating, sobbing, praying and pleading all at once as he huddled in his bathroom. Curled protectively into a ball, still holding his laptop, freaking out at even the slightest sound. He was trying not to panic and failing miserably.

"Oh, God, would you please hurry up?!" he screamed at Abate.

"I'm on ChatRoulette right now. I'm getting somebody," Abate assured him. "Just hang in there, okay?"

"Howdy, partner," said a cheery voice on the CR site.

"Hi, can you hear me?" asked Abate.

"Loud and clear."

"Listen—uh—I'm in need of help, big-time. Uh—something is happening, and you need to call law enforcement."

"What—what's the emergency?" asked the ChatRoulette guy.

"I was chatting online with some friends, and then some creep started harassing us and plucking us off one by one. One friend is being attacked right now."

"Do you know who the attacker is?"

"No, but he calls himself LisRl2015 online."

"My God, we're dealing with a hacker," the CR guy muttered under his breath. "Martha? Honey? Call the police; there's a hacker on the loose!"

The woman identified as Martha came into the shot. "Is it you who called us?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am. My friend's being attacked, and he's scared out of his mind."

"You look scared half to death yourself. Don't worry, you and your friend are in good hands."

"Thank you," Abate sighed gratefully. "Isai, they're calling the authorities now."

"Please, hurry!" hiccupped Isai.

"Hello?" they heard Martha speak into the phone. "My name is Martha Lowell. A young man on webcam has told me and my husband that his friend is in danger and needs assistance right away. Location is…" She told them where Isai's residence was located. "I take it that your average response time is around 10 to 15 minutes. We're gonna need you to do better than that. Thank you, goodbye."

"God bless you, Mrs. Lowell. God bless you," gasped Abate.

"Is there anyone else in danger?" asked the husband.

"My other friend. This hacker is messing around with our power, our computers—even our printers and then forcing us to reveal our secrets," said Abate.

"I'm Martin," said the husband.

"Martin? I'm Steve."

"Say—aren't you the fellow who plays Melee?"

"Y-yeah. I'm Steve Abate."

"I've been to most of your tournaments, and I must say, you were exceptional with Luigi," said Martin.

"Thanks, Martin. I practiced and mashed buttons till my hands swelled up," Abate said proudly. "Man, let me tell you about the time…" Before he knew it, he was rambling about Melee victories and losses past and present, a defense mechanism to keep him from panicking.

"So—what do you do, Martin?"

"I cosplay and host online tournaments," said Martin.

"And his favorite game is Minecraft…" Isai broke in. "Sweet J—s, I'm about to be done in by a specter in my house!"

"Isai, help is on the way," Abate assured him.

"I just spoke to the dispatcher," said Martha. "They should be at your friend's residence in five minutes."

"Okay, thank you. Thank you," said Abate before disconnecting ChatRoulette.

Isai was now grasping the handle of his bathroom door as he looked into the camera. He'd begun to calm down a little. "Well?"

"The police are coming, Isai," said Abate. "They should be at your house inside of five minutes. You're going to be fine. We're all gonna be okay here."

"Why is he doing this?" croaked Isai. "Why?"

"Whatever the reason, the police will find out," Abate said soothingly.

Isai had just succeeded in pulling himself together when—

 _ **Never Have I Ever—defaced Luigi's grave.**_

"Oh, God, no!" Isai curled up against the door. "It wasn't me! L, that wasn't me! I swear! Please, no!"

"Luigi's grave got defaced?" Eddy asked in disbelief.

With the seconds ticking down, Isai made a panicked plea to his innocence. "L! L, please! It wasn't me; I'm not lying! You know I'd never do that! Make him stop! Why does he keep doing this?!"

"Isai, for the last time, I want you to take a deep breath and get a grip on yourself," said Abate. "We're gonna get through this. L, Isai didn't do anything! For God's sake, stop playing games with us!"

The timer hit zero and was then replaced with a chilling message: _**Goodbye, Isai. ;)**_

Isai's feed began to freeze and disappear.

"Oh, my God," gasped Abate. "Oh, my God, Isai? Isai! Isai, no! Just run, Isai! Run for your life!"

Isai's feed flickered on and off, showing him screaming in terror and brandishing a straight razor, and then struggling against an unseen force.

"Isai?" called Abate.

"No!" Isai screamed in a voice filled with pain and affright. "Help me! Somebody help me! NOOOOOOO!"

He rolled out of the frame as the sounds of struggling continued. And then his feed disconnected.

"Isai?!" barked Abate. He slammed his desktop and cursed. "Where's a Poltergust when you need it?"

An incoming call notification from Isai popped up. Abate clicked on it, anticipating the worst.

"Isai? Are you all right? If that monster hurt you, I swear…"

Isai's shrieking face filled the frame, blood and steam pouring out of his mouth. His clothes had been torn off his body, and it looked like his hands were bound behind his back. Then, his body spasmed violently, his eyes began to roll back into his head, and his struggles ceased.

"Oh, my God!" bellowed Abate. "This isn't happening!"

On the upper right corner of his screen came a notification that Isai had added a new photo. He clicked on the notification.

When the photo loaded, Abate felt bile rise in his throat. Isai was naked on his bathroom floor, his wrists and ankles bound, bruises and burn marks all over his body, face nearly beaten in. A curling iron, still smoking and still plugged in, had been lodged inside of him.

WHEN UR FRIEND GETS [ _BLEEPED_ ] IN THE [ _BLEEP_ ], the caption above the photo read in block letters.

Now it was Abate's turn to start hyperventilating, struggling to string a coherent sentence together. "Eddy, I…"

"I'm here, Steve. I'm here," Eddy said in a gentle tone.

They stared at each other via their feeds before both of their lights cut out.

Abate leapt out of his chair, running blindly, laptop still in hand. "Oh, God, help us!" he wailed. He didn't get far before stumbling and crumpling to the floor.

He sat there, on the floor, choking back sobs, listening to his wild heartbeat. On the other end, he could hear Eddy breathe heavily. Icy sweat coated Abate's body, he trembled in every limb, and the strength was leaving him in a rush. He actually didn't think he would live much longer.

"Hello?" he asked in a small voice. "Is anybody there?"

He was answered by loud jingling from his desktop. Abate looked down at it and uttered a choked sound of relief. "That—that was an alarm I set for tomorrow," he explained to Eddy. "The camp I volunteer at is going on a field trip."

Eddy laughed almost hysterically. "Oh, Stevie. Stevie."

"Eddy—do you hate me?" asked Abate.

"No—I could never hate you," Eddy tearfully responded. "You're the best friend and doubles partner I ever had!"

"You really mean that?" breathed Abate.

Eddy nodded. "We're in this together, for better or worse."

"I'll make it up to you, whatever it takes," vowed Abate. "I swear I will make this up to you!"

 _ **Yeah, like you made things up to your other friend,**_ LisRl2015 broke in.

"What are you talking about?" Abate wanted to know.

 _ **Don't play dumb with me. He counted on you to be there for him. If you had, then he'd still be alive today.**_

"You're not pinning this on me! I did everything I could!" Abate said hotly.

 _ **…but, you failed him, and tonight, you and Eddy are gonna answer for it.**_

"Steve," Eddy said urgently. "Steve, I think it's him. It's got to be him."

 _ **You'd best start believing in ghost stories, Stevie—you're in one!**_

"Oh, dear Lord," whimpered Abate. "I think it's him, too."

 _ **Now,**_ typed the user finally revealed as Luigi's ghost. _**I have one last question for you.**_

"What is it, old pal?" Eddy asked as cordially his shaky voice would allow.

 _ **Which of you uploaded that video? The video that ruined my life?**_

* * *

 **Say WHA-AT?**


	8. Guilty Ones

**Guilty Ones**

 **TW: Violence, disturbing imagery, gore and an unhappy ending**

 _ **October 10, 2016**_

 _ **10:45 p.m.**_

"Are—are you serious?" spluttered Abate. "That wasn't us, L!"

"L, please," Eddy said shakily.

"It was not us," reiterated Abate. "I promise you, L, it wasn't us!"

"When you were fighting that match, I was eating breakfast with Mr. C," explained Eddy. "I was giving him a pep talk after that nerf. There was no way I could've seen that fight or recorded it! I was still in that diner with Mr. C when I heard the news!"

 _ **You know, it takes a while for a video to upload to YouTube. It could've been uploading while you were in the diner.**_

"When did the match end?" asked Eddy.

 _ **Oh, about 8:30 or so.**_

"I met Mr. C in the diner at 8:00. I drove there straight from my house. I wasn't in the audience that day, and I sure didn't record you being beaten up by those heathens! When I got the call, I wanted to rip their freaking heads off! I sped over there like a demon to comfort you. Don't you remember?"

"Yeah, and—and—I was getting ready for another Melee bracket!" Abate put in. "I was over at Armada's place, practicing! And when Eddy called me with the news, I tore out of there, hopped on the commuter and met him and Mr. C to pick up Isai and Blayd. Then, we went straight to your place! It was physically impossible for us to record and upload that video given the time frame of these events. We both have alibis!"

Luigi ignored them and began to count down.

"Please, Luigi—it wasn't us!" interjected Abate.

Luigi responded by messaging Abate via Facebook: _**I know you wouldn't do this, Steve.**_

 _ **You—do?**_

 _ **Yeah, my friend, that's just not your type. So—why are you protecting him?**_

 _ **He's just as innocent as me!**_

 _ **Or because you're best buddies and doubles partners. Let me ask you something—do you know anything about Eddy personally, outside of the tournament universe?**_

 _ **Well, he just met someone, and—**_

 _ **That's not what I mean. What makes you think he's always the affable person he presents himself as?**_

 _ **Look, he told me a bit about his personal life, and I don't see him bullying people!**_

 _ **Steve, don't you want this to be over?**_

Throughout this conversation, the timer continued to count down.

 _ **Yes.**_

 _ **Good. Then man up, stop trying to paint Eddy as a white-robed saint and tell the truth. You know what they say—the truth will set you free!**_

"Eddy," choked out Abate. "Are you sure you don't hate me? Can you truly forgive my sins? I'm sorry for what I've done…"

"Shh—shh—it's over now," Eddy said softly. "It was just the situation and the danger making me act like that. I could never ask for a better teammate than you, Steve."

"That's good, Eddy. That's very good," said Abate as the timer reached 5. "Then I hope you'll forgive me for what I'm about to do."

"Do what?" asked Eddy. "Abate, what are you talking about? What are you…?"

With three seconds remaining, it was now or never for Steve Abate. Swallowing back the lump in his throat, he typed the three words which would seal Eddy's fate: _**It was him.**_

Abate sent the message and held his breath.

He then saw Eddy, standing there like a statue, his eyes downcast. He was sopping with sweat.

"Eddy? Eddy, look at me. Look at me!" shouted Abate. "EDDIE!"

The camera swung down to reveal a kitchen knife, which swung upward in a vicious arc and plunged into Eddy's chin. His mouth open, revealing the glistening point which had penetrated his lower jaw. He released a gurgling scream as the knife pulled out before driving deep into his cheekbone, and then his other cheekbone. Blood and chunks of gums and teeth tumbled out of his mouth. Next, the knife stabbed Eddy through his left eye, through his right eye and finally into the center of his chest, dragging down past his navel as blood spritzed all over the camera lens. The blade remained buried inside his abdomen as he slowly fell backwards, hitting the ground with a sickening thud.

"Eddie! Oh, God, no! Eddie!" Abate screamed in horror.

And then the connection went dead.

Steve Abate was alone.

He began to sob hysterically, uncontrollably, as "The Way We Were" came on over his media player. "I'm so sorry!" he hiccupped. "Why did it have to end this way?"

 _ **Thank you, Steve**_ , typed Luigi. _**That must have been very difficult for you…**_

"No, please…"

 _ **So, just one more thing…**_

"What—what…?"

Luigi initiated yet another countdown, from 45 seconds.

"Why are you counting down?" demanded Abate in a high, shrieking voice. "What do you want from me?!" He sobbed profusely. "Don't you remember? All of the fun times and the moments we shared together? The tournaments we won and lost, the different Nintendo consoles and games through the years and how Melee survived after that? Remember every EVO? Every Smash Con? Every quarter final, semifinal and final? Remember how we beat Mango and Leffen and ZeRo and Westballz—and Hungrybox? Remember Project M? Remember how you had those nightmares after those people turned you into a bad guy? Remember the encouragement I gave when you told me you had to rescue Mario? Every combo video and montage featuring us? You were my main, Luigi! In my hands, you took on the world! I would never hurt you—I knew from the beginning that out of everyone on the Melee roster, you would stand out; you, Luigi Mario, would take me to a whole new world! And so you have. Luigi, you are my best friend, for better or worse! I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, but I will be in the next life! Please…"

Abate clicked on Luigi's profile link and selected the "See Friendship" command, scrolling through the old photos as he delivered his mea culpa. "What do you think I did, Luigi?" he moaned, swiping at his eyes with his sleeve. "Look at us! Look at how happy we were!"

 _ **How could I forget?**_ Luigi asked.

"I know we drifted apart after Smash 4, and I'm sorry for that!" sniffled Abate.

 _ **"Drifted apart"? Is that how you remember it? I think there's more to the story…**_

3—2—1—

A Facebook notification announced that Luigi tagged Abate in a video.

Steve clicked on the notification, which took him to the "Kill Urself Luigi" video.

"No…" he squeaked out.

In the video, Luigi was curled up on the stage, covered in blood and bruises, sobbing quietly in humiliation. His swollen, blackened eyes shot the camera a look that could kill right on the spot.

"Why?" he sobbed. "Why?"

Blood and snot pooled from a broken nose, the camera zooming in on every last one of the plumber's injuries and panning across his body. Off the camera, soft chuckling sounded. "You okay, buddy?" asked a voice.

"I thought you cared about me," Luigi choked out as the voice chuckled again.

The camera then zoomed out, offering the viewer one last full profile shot of Luigi, before the lens swiveled around.

Revealing Abate as the culprit.

The gamer wanted to be ill as he watched himself stifle a full-blown laugh. His eyes smiling directly into the shot as he proclaimed, "I got him!" He doubled up then, succumbing to a fit of laughter.

Steve's hands shot to his mouth. "I'm sorry," he croaked. "I'm sorry."

 _ **What you've done,**_ typed Luigi, _**will live here forever and ever, even after you leave this earth to face the Eternal Flame!**_

Steve gripped the edges of his desktop, waiting in suspense.

Then, it was open season for him on Facebook.

 _ **Steve, you killed him!**_ That was from Peach.

 _ **U freaking monster!**_ That was from Little Mac.

 _ **Kill urself!**_ That was from Samus.

 _ **You're going to the Ninth Circle of the Inferno for this!**_ That was from Mario.

 _ **I'll never speak to you again**_ , vowed Rosalina.

 _ **Ur not serious, OMFG.**_ That was from Daisy.

 _ **This is disgusting!**_ That was from Toad.

 _ **Even I wouldn't do something like that!**_ That was from King Koopa.

 _ **Me neither!**_ That was from Ganondorf.

 _ **Or even me!**_ That was from King Boo.

 _ **U have no respect for society!**_ Wario charged.

As the Smashers, Assist Trophies, residents of the Mushroom Kingdom and friends and relatives from Brooklyn raked Abate over the coals, Luigi sent out one final, haunting message:

 _ **I wish I could forgive you, Steve.**_

With those parting words, Luigi signed off.

Everything was quiet.

Abate sat there, hugging himself, shivering as chill bumps speckled his skin. His face was still streaked with tears. He said nothing, save for the occasional weep or whimper. His friends were dead. Everyone turned his back on him. He was alone.

Alone.

Or was he?

 _Creeeeaaaaak…_

Abate whipped his head around. "H-hello?"

Small tremors wracked his body, increasing to jerky heaves as he sensed another presence in the room.

SLAM! A pair of gloved hands slammed Abate's laptop screen shut.

Abate's blood ran cold as he found himself face-to-face with the ghost of his main. Pale skin, disheveled hair, rumpled hat and clothes and shadowy, sunken eyes of azure venom.

"L—Luigi?" he stuttered, unable to move.

"You're next," the ghost stated in a low, sinister tone.

Steve Abate screamed in abject terror as Luigi's ghost pounced on him.

* * *

Isai.

Steve Abate.

Eddy México.

Blayd.

Mr. ConCon.

Boss.

These six men had one thing in common.

They were Smash players.

And their blood, sweat and tears were poured into one Smasher.

Luigi.

The man in green thought that they were the only people who could truly understand him. He thought he could truly understand them. He thought he could trust him.

Because they clicked so easily.

Luigi loved the men who mained him, and he thought they loved him, too. They could've spent the rest of their lives taking on the world of Smash together.

But on October 4, 2015, everything went horribly wrong when Steve Abate stabbed Luigi in the back.

Six days following Abate's stunning act of treachery, Luigi ended the lives of eight of his tormentors before ending his own.

One year after his death, he returned to complete his revenge.

What can we learn from this?

Well—

Online, your memories last forever.

But so do your mistakes.

 **HAPPY HALLOWEEN! :D**

 **Thank you pichuplayer and Steel Magic for your reviews!**


End file.
